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COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



ELOCUTION 



AND 



ACTION 

By F\ TOWNSEND SOUTHWICK 

Original Illustrations 




FOURTH EDITION— REVISED AND ENLARGED 



NEW YORK 
Edgar S. Werner Publishing & Supply Co. 

(Incorporated) 

Copyright 1S90, :894 > is&3» by Edgar S. Werner 

All rights reserved. 



THE LIBRARY OF 
CONGRESS. 

Two Copies Received 

WAR 26 1903 

Copyright Entry 
3LASS A- XXc. No. 
COPY. B. 



TM<H» 
,657 



TO 

Bu6tin 3B. ffletcber, B.^., XX.3B, 

TO WHOM, 

AS ARTIST, TEACHER, AND FRIEND, I OWE 

MUCH MORE THAN THIS SIMPLE 

TRIBUTE CAN REPAY. 



PREFACE. 



This little work is intended for beginners in expres- 
sion. It gives, in as simple language as the writer 
can command, the elements of- the art. The order in 
which the lessons are given is in accordance with 
the author's experience in teaching classes of the 
grade for which it is designed. Teachers of wider 
experience may find another arrangement preferable ; 
if so, it is an easy matter to assign the lessons as they 
please. The difficulty has been to select only such 
exercises and rules as are absolutely essential for 
young students. It cannot be expected that all will 
agree with the author's judgment in this particular ; 
nevertheless, the satisfactory results obtained by 
adhering strictly to the matter contained herein have 
convinced him that while much of importance might 
easily have been added, nothing that was absolutely 
necessary has been omitted. Suggestions looking 
toward improvement will, however, be thankfully re- 
ceived. 

Toward the end, the lessons are more difficult and 
longer than in the beginning. Since the book was 
planned to cover at least a school-year of ordinary 
elocutionary training, the latter part, it is hoped, will 
be found to have but kept pace with the mental and 
artistic development of the pupil. The chapters on 
pantomimic expression may, however, be subdivided 
or reserved for a second year's course, if deemed ad- 
visable. Many pupils will, of course, go over the 
whole ground very quickly. 

I do not advocate memorizing the lessons. The 



PREFACE. 

constant necessity for applying the instructions to the 
practical work of expression will soon fix in the pupil's 
mind all that is of importance. Discuss thoroughly 
each chapter, multiplying the illustrations and trying 
to lead the pupil to work out for himself, if possible, 
the solution of the problems under consideration. 

Exercises relating to a particular subject are num- 
bered consecutively throughout the book without re- 
gard to other exercises that may intervene. For 
instance, under Breathing, Exercises 1, 2, and 3 will 
be found in Lesson IY., and 4, 5, 6, and 7 in Lesson 
XIX. This will, it is believed, aid in keeping each 
subject more completely apart from the others than if 
the ordinary method of numbering were followed. 

Little will be found here relating to emotional ex- 
pression; such work belongs to a later period of 
mental development than was contemplated in pre- 
paring this manual. The painful exhibition of preco- 
cious, hot-house passion has no part in tlie author's 
scheme of education. Even those of more mature 
years who may find this manual useful are advised to 
thoroughly master its precepts before essaying higher 
flights. The great essential is a solid foundation of 
conversational delivery. Emotion that is genuine will 
find its own outlet, if the channels of expression are 
free. 

It is hard to specify each case of the author's in- 
debtedness to others. Little can be claimed for the 
book on the score of originality except in arrange- 
ment and selection of material. Much of its contents 
is the common property of all good teachers ; the few 
things that are not, the author has paid well for 
either in money or in hard work. 



CONTENTS. 



i. 
ii. 

in. 

IV. 

v. 

VI. 

VII. 

VIII. 

IX. 

X. 

XI. 

XII. 

XIII. 

XIV. 

XV. 

XVI. 

XVII. 

XVIII. 

XIX. 

XX. 

XXI. 
XXII. 
XXIII. 
XXIV. 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 

XXXIII. 

XXXIV. 

XXXV. 

XXXVI. 

XXXVII. 

XXXVIII. 

XXXIX. 

XL. 



Preface, 5 

The Speaker's Position, 11 

The Speaker's Position, continued, 14 

Phrasing, 16 

Breathing -Exercises. 21 

Emphasis, 24 

Position, continued, 30 

Inflection, 32 

Position, continued — Flexibility, 37 

The Vocal Apparatus, 40 

Vocal Exercises, . 44 

Articulation, 46 

Flexibility— Hands and Fingers— Wrists, ... 48 

Minor Inflections— Position, continued, .... 51 

Flexibility, continued— The Vowels, continued, 53 

Emphasis, continued 57 

For Independence of the Legs— The Vowels, 

continued, 60 

Rules for Emphasis, continued, 62 

Flexibility, continued— The Vowels, continued, 67 
Breathing- Exercises, continued — The Vowels, 

continued, 69 

The Language of the Body— Pantomimic Ex- 
pression, 73 

The Torso, 76 

Inflections, continued— The Vowels, continued, 79 

The Legs, 85 

Articulation— The Vowels, continued— The Con- 
sonants 90 

The Head, 92 

Articulation, continued— Vocal Exercises, con'd 96 

Attitudes of the Head, continued, 100 

Climax, 104 

The Eye, ' 108 

Rhythm, 112 

Actions of the Hand 117 

Articulation, continued— Vocal Exercises, con'd 121 

Actions of the Hand, continued, 124 

Pitch, Movement and Volume, 128 

Fall-Arm Gestures 133 

Oppositions of the Head and Arms, 138 

Articulation, con'd— Difficult Combinations, . . 147 

Facial Expression, 150 

Description, 155 

Final Hints on Attitudes and Bearings, .... 162 

Selections for Practice, 167 

Miscellaneous Selections 245 

Index 317 



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 



rig. 
Fig. 


2. 


Fig. 


8. 


Fig. 


4. 


Fig. 


5. 


biff. 


6. 


Fig. 


7. 


Fig. 


8. 


Fig. 


9. 


Fig. 


10. 


Fig. 


11. 


Fig. 


12. 


Fig. 


IB. 


Fig-. 


14. 


Fig. 


15. 


Fig. 


16. 


Fig. 


17. 


Fig. 


18. 


Fig. 


19. 


Fig. 


20. 


Fig. 


21. 


Fig. 


22. 


Fig. 


23. 


Fig. 


24. 


Fig. 


25. 


Fig. 


26. 


Fig. 


27. 


Fig. 


28. 


Fig. 


29. 


Fig. 


30. 


Fig. 


31. 


Fig. 


32. 


Fig. 


33. 


Fig- 


34. 


Fig. 


35. 



PAGE. 

Speaker's Position, 12 

Attitude of Respect, 30 

Swaying the Hip, 37 

Relaxing the Hand, 49 

Relaxing the Wrist, 50 

Relaxing the Neck, 53 

Swaying the Leg, 54 

The Head Erect, 93 

The Head Bowed, . 93 

The Head Lifted, 94 

The Head Pivoted, 94 

The Head Inclined, 100 

The Head Advanced, 101 

The Head Drawn Back, 101 

The Head Hung, 102 

The Head Thrown Back, 102 

Simple Indication, Hand Only, 117 

Full-Arm Indication, 134 

Indication, Palm Down, Attitude of Hand, .... 134 

Folding the Arm, (a) Pivoting, 135 

Folding the Arm, (5) at the Wrist, 135 

Folding the Arm, (c) Completed, 135 

Indication with Folding Movement, 136 

Oppositions of Head and Arm, Beginning of Indi- 
cation, 140 

Oppositions of Head and Arm, Conclusion of Indi- 
cation, 140 

Oppositions in Rejection, Beginning, 141 

Oppositions in Rejection, Conclusion, 141 

Oppositions in Affirmation, Beginning, 142 

Oppositions in Affirmation, Conclusion, Side View, 142 
Oppositions in Affirmation, Conclusion, Front 

View, 142 

Oppositions in Assertion, Beginning, 143 

Oppositions in Assertion, Conclusion, 143 

Oppositions in Repulsion — Advanced Foot, .... 144 

Oppositions in Repulsion — Retired Foot, 144 

Attitude of Arms in Reflection, , , 163 



INDEX TO RECITATIONS. 

Page. 

Adams and Jefferson. Daniel Webster^. 185 

Against Whipping in the Navy. Commodore Stockton 230 

Alexander Ypsilanti . . ..... . ._. ._._. ._._.. 217 

Americanism. Theodore Roosevelt 313 

Battle of Naseby. Thomas B. Macaulay 198 

Bells of Shandon. Francis Mahoney. 196 

Brutus on the Death of Csesar. Shakespeare 178 

Chambered Nautilus. Oliver Wendell Holmes 221 

Charge of the Light Brigade. Alfred Tennyson 170 

Christmas Party at Scrooge's Nephew's. Charles Dickens... 211 

Cynic. Henry Ward Beecher 292 

Dedication of Gettysburg Cemetery. Abraham Lincoln 177 

Destruction of Sennacherib. Lord Byron 293 

Discontented Pendulum. Jane Taylor 172 

Duel. Thomas Hood 169 

Echo and Ferry. Jean Ingelow 189 

Facilis Descensus 236 

Forging of the Anchor. Samuel Ferguson 286 

Fox at the Point of Death. John Gay 186 

France and Rochambeau. Henry Cabot Lodge 278 

Fugitives. Percy Bysshe Shelley 310 

Good Courage. John W. Chad wick 288 

Great Schools of the World. John P. Jones 253 

Hamlet's Instruction to the Players. Shakespeare 168 

Hand-Car 412. John Heard, Jr 266 

Herve Riel. Robert Browning 226 

Hunting Song. Walter Scott 307 

If Mother Would Listen. Margaret E. Sangster 297 

I'm with You Once Again. George P. Morris 301 

Incident of the French Camp 191 

Issues of the Transvaal Question. Enid Widdrington 298 

"Julius Caesar," Scene from. Shakespeare 232 

Langley Lane. Robert Buchanan 183 

Leper. N. P. Willis 187 

Liberty. Chauncey M. Depew 271 

Lillies of Queens' Gardens. John Ruskin 247 



8 INDEX TO RECITA TIONS. 

Page. 
Little Stowaway 199 

Man in the Moon. James Whitcomb Riley 237 

March of Company A. Kate Putnam Osgood 269 

Marmion and Douglas. Walter Scott 215 

Mice at Play. Neil Forest 218 

Mince Pies 302 

Mont Blanc Before Sunrise. S. T. Coleridge 241 

Old Flag. Hubbard Parker 290 

Origin of Roast Pig. Charles Lamb 180 

Other Side of the Case. Eleanor Kirk 280 

Owl and the Bell. George Macdonald 202 

Owl Critic. James T. Fields 224 

Palmer's Vision. John G. Holland 213 

Plain Tale of 1893 207 

Plea for Cuban Liberty. John M. Thurston 261 

Portia's Speech on Mercy. Shakespeare 195 

Prodigal Son. Bible 167 

Reading for the Thought. John Ruskin 194 

Religion of Trooper Peter Halket. Olive Schreiner 282 

"Rivals, The," Duel Scene from. Richard Brinsley Sheridan. 204 

Rome and Carthage. Victor Hugo 306 

Sermon on the Mount. Bible 275 

Shylock to Antonio. Shakespeare 265 

Song of the Chattahoochee. Sidney Lanier 251 

Speech of Black Hawk 3°8 

Star-Spangled Banner. Francis Scott Key 179 

Sultan's Career. Edwin Arnold 258 

Supporting the Guns 234 

Sweet and Low. Alfred Tennyson 223 

Sympathy with the Greeks. Henry Clay 192 

Tea-Kettle and the Cricket. Charles Dickens 256 

"Tramp Abroad," selection from. Mark Twain 238 

Twenty-third Psalm. Bible 223 

Two Views of Christmas. Charles Dickens 209 

Whip-Poor-Will. M. M. Folsom 274 

William McKinley. Chauncey M. Depew. 294 

Wind and the Moon. George Macdonald 174 

You Never Can Tell. Ella Wheeler Wilcox 305 



LESSONS 



Elocution and Action. 



LESSON I. 



The Speaker's Position. 



\ The best position for the speaker is that in which 
he can speak or read effectively for the longest time 
with the greatest ease, and which, at the same time, 
allows the greatest freedom of movement. 

A speaker in a constrained position is always more 
or less embarrassed, because his attention is called 
continually to unpleasant sensations in his hands, feet, 
or head, as the case may be ; on the other hand, a 
comfortable position puts both speaker and audience 
at ease. Without a correct and graceful position the 
gestures will be awkward and unnatural, and the voice 
will be constrained ; therefore, it is necessary to ac- 
quire this first of all. 

11 



12 



FIRST LESSON. 



Exercise I. 
Standing. 

Front View. 

Stand in an animated manner with 
the weight of the body upon the right 
foot, which should be firmly planted 
on the floor ; have the chief part of the 
weight upon the ball of the foot, but 
do not let the heel rise. Do not let 
the right leg sag and, on the other 
hand, do not stiffen the knee. 

The eight hip will tend outward a 
little at the side. This is its natural 
position ; do not draw up the body so 
that the hip is straight above the foot. 
The shouldees will incline slightly 
to the left, just sufficiently to balance 
FlG - 1 - the outward position of the hip. If 

the shoulders are kept exactly even, the right side 
of the body will seem to overbalance the other side. 
If the hip and shoulders are rightly balanced, the 
notch in the collar-bone (which is just half-way be- 
tween the shoulders) will be exactly over the instep 
of the right foot. This will not be the case if either 
the hip or the shoulders are out of position. 

The head should not be held stiffly erect, but al- 
lowed to incline a very little toward the right 
shoulder. 




THE SPEAKER'S POSITION. 13 

The arms should hang loosely and naturally at the 
sides, with the palms of the hands toward the body. 

The left foot should be about opposite the right 
foot at the side, and at a little distance from it, the left 
leg being passive. If the attitude is perfectly easy 
and natural, the left knee will fall slightly inward. 

Practise this position with the weight upon the 
left foot also. You should be able to stand equally 
well on either foot. 

In the description of an exercise we usually speak 
of the foot which supports the weight of the body as 
the strong" foot, and the corresponding side of the 
body as the strong side. The other foot we call 
the free foot because, if the body be properly "bal- 
anced, it will have complete freedom of movement in 
every possible direction. 

In this position, as we described it, the right side 
was the strong side, and the left the free side, or, as 
it is sometimes called, the "weak" side. When the 
Aveight of the body is transferred to the left foot, that 
becomes the strong and the right becomes the free 
foot, and of course the positions of hip, shoulders, 
and head are reversed. 



LESSON II. 



The Speaker's Position,— Continued- 



Standing. 

Side View. 

Be careful that the knee of the strong leg is firm 
without stiffness. 

The hips should not be thrown forward, which gives 
one a pompous appearance, nor drawn far back. 

The chest should be active, that is, expanded but 
not necessarily inflated with air. 

Do not pull the shoulders back, nor draw them for- 
ward. Do not draw in the chin nor lift the head, but 
look straight forward toward the audience. 

Be sure that there is neither stiffness nor limpness 
anywhere ; try to have a springy, animated condition 
of the whole body, both in this and in all similar ex- 
ercises. 

Avoid nervous twitchings of the face and hands, picb- 
ing with the fingers, twisting about on the ankle, in a 
word, all unnecessary movements of any part of the 
body, 

14 



THE SPEAKER'S POSITION. 15 

The important element in every position is the 
proper balance or poise, as it is called, of the body. 
If the notch in the collar-bone be kept exactly over the 
middle of the strong foot, the body is properly poised 
or balanced, and the arms and free foot can move 
freely in all directions without cramping or distorting 
any part. If, on the contrary, the shoulders incline 
too far either to the right or to the left, there is danger 
of losing one's balance, while if the hip be drawn in, 
there will be stiffness and constraint. 

EXERCISE II. 

Sitting. 

Sit erect, with active chest and animated carriage 

of the whole body. Keep the feet near together, one 

slightly in advance of the other. Let the hands, if 

unemployed, lie easily and naturally in the lap. Do 

not lean against the back of the chair, nor sit stiffly 

erect, but sway the body slightly forward. 

To the Teacher: — Illustrate by example both correct and incorrect 
attitudes. If pupils are farnillir with the law of gravitation, 
call their attention to its application here. Do not take up any 
further work iu position until these lessons are thoroughly un- 
derstood; but do not wait for perfect precision before going 
on. Point out glaring faults as they occur, but do not strive 
for ideal perfection in attitude ; or, for that matter, in expres- 
sion of any sort, in the beginning; the result will be loss of 
spontaneity, which is more valuable than grace or mechanical 
perfection. If the habitual attitude approximate to the ideal, 
the less said about details the better. Leave much to nature, 
especially with very young pupils. 



LESSON III. 



Phrasing. 



Stand in the Speaker's Position. Hold the book 
unless too heavy, with one hand only — that on the 
strong side, — supporting the back with three fingers, 
and holding down the leaves by means of the thumb 
and little finger. Accustom yourself to use either 
hand. Keep the book at one side and well away from 
your eyes, so that those in front of you can see your 
face. 

i. Read to bring out ideas, not words. 

A group of words combined to express an idea is 
called a phrase, and the grouping of words as we read 
them, so as to convey the right meaning, is called 
phrasing. 

2. Try to think each idea yourself before speak- 
ing it. 

3. Pause after each word or group of words that 
expresses a separate idea, both to give your hearers 
time to understand, and to give yourself an opportu- 
nity to master the next idea. Do not confine yourself 
to pausing at the marks of punctuation ; they are in- 
tended for the eye, not the ear, A good reader will 

16 



PHRASING. 17 

often make a long pause where there is not even a 
comma, and pause longer at a comma in one place 
than at a period in another. 

EXAMPLES. 

(a) The books which help you most | are those which make you 
think the most. 1 1 1 The hardest way of learning I is by easy read- 
ing; |[ but a great book I that comes from a great thinker, I is a ship 
of thought, II deep freighted with truth I and with beauty. 
(b) There's no dew left on the daisies and clover, 
There's no rain left in heaven, 
I've said my " seven times" over and over, 
Seven times one are seven. 

In both the examples above, we make many pauses 
besides those indicated by the marks of punctuation ; 
indeed, sometimes a single word will be of sufficient 
importance to demand a pause. In the second exam- 
ple, which is light and joyous, the pauses are much 
shorter than in the other, but they must be percepti- 
ble, however slight they may be. 

Here is an example of bad phrasing, such as occurs 
very frequently : 

Listen my children I and you shall hear II 
Of the midnight I ride of I Paul Revere. 

or worse still : 

Of the mid I night ride I of Paul Revere. I 

The first phrase is nonsense. How can one " listen 
my children" or listen any one else's children for that 
matter ? Evidently we must correct that by pausing 



18 THIRD LESSON. 

after " listen," as the thought is complete there — we 
are told to listen. Again, we should not pause after 
' ' hear, ' ' because the idea is incomplete ; we are not to 
listen in order that we may hear merely, but that we 
may hear of " the midnight ride of PaulEevere," or, 
if we wish to be very careful in our phrasing, ' ' of the 
midnight ride | of Paul Revere, ' ' but certainly not ' ' of 
the midnight " or "of the mid. ' ' 

Correctly phrased, these lines would be read : 
listen | my children | and you shall hear 
Of the midnight ride j of Paul Revere, 

the pause after ' ' ride ' ' being comparatively slight. 

4. Accustom yourself to take in one or more 
phrases at a glance, so that you can raise your eyes 
from the book and speak the words directly to your 
audience, as if they were your own. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

Point out the errors in the following examples. No- 
tice that most of these and similar mistakes arise from 
the bad habit of ' ' sing-songing ' ' poetry, instead of 
reading it for the thought. Avoid this fault. 

I'm not a chicken 1 1 have seen | 

Full many a chill | September 1 1 
And though I was | a youngster then | 

That gale I well | remember. 1 1 j 
The day before | my kite-string snapped | 

And I my kite [ pursuing ] 
The wind whisked off | my palm-leaf hat [ 

For me two storms j were brewing \— Holmes. 

Do not j look for [ wrong and | evil— 
You will J find them | if you | do; 



PHRASING. 19 

As you | measure | for your | neighbor | 
He will | measure | back to | you. 

Look for | goodness | look for | gladness, | 
You will | meet them | all the | while ; 

If you | bring a | smiling | visage | 
To the | glass, you | meet a | smile. 

Indicate the pauses in the following examples : 

I come from haunts of coot and hern 

I make a sudden sally 
And sparkle out among the fern 

To bicker down a valley 

I slip I slide I gloom I glance 

Among my skimming swallows 
I make the netted sunbeam dance ' 

Against my sandy shallows 

And out again I curve and flow 

To join the brimming river 
For men may come and men may go 

But I go on forever. — Tennyson. 

Halt the dust-brown ranks stood fast 

Fire out blazed the rifle blast 

It shivered the window pane and sash 

It rent the banner with seam and gash 

Quick as it fell from the broken staff 

Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. — Whittier. 

He said to his friend " If the British march 
By land or sea from the town to-night 

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry-arch 
Of the North-Church tower as a signal-light 

One if by land and two if by sea 

And I on the opposite shore will be 

Ready to ride and spread the alarm 

Through every Middlesex village and farm 

For the country-folk to be up and to arm. "—Longfellow, 



20 THIRD LESSON. 

Till he has fairly tried it, I suspect a reader does not know how 
much he would gain from committing to memory passages of 
real excellence ; precisely because he does not know how much 
he overlooks in merely reading. Learn one true poem by heart, 
and see if you do not find it so. Beauty after beauty will reveal 
itself, in chosen phrase, or happy music, or noble suggestion, 
otherwise undreamed of. It is like looking at one of Nature's 
wonders through a microscope. Poems and noble extracts, 
whether of verse or prose, once so reduced into possession and 
rendered truly our own, may be to us a daily pleasure ; better far 
than a whole library unused. They may come to us in our dull 
moments, to refresh us as with spring flowers; in our selfish 
musings, to win us by pure delight from the tyranny of foolish 
castle -building, self -congratulations, and mean anxieties. They 
may be with us in the workshop, in the crowded streets, by the 
fireside ; sometimes, perhaps, on pleasant hill-sides, or by sound- 
ing shores ; — noble friends and companions — our own ! never in- 
trusive, ever at hand, coming at our call ! — Vernon Lushington. 

To the Teacher :— Practise pupils daily on analysis for ideas ; 
have them group phrases on the blackboard, and strive in 
every way to awaken the analytic powers, until they are able 
to phrase naturally and intelligently. Few teachers, to say 
nothing of pupils, estimate rightly the value of pause as an 
element in natural delivery. I have heard eminent readers 
who had not mastered that means of expression. Pause has 
a vastly broader field than the mere separation of ideas. 
Notice how frequently we hesitate in conversation, always 
thinking the thought before expressing it, and pausing for a 
greater or less time as the thought is complicated or simple. 
Again, in the expression of strong emotions, we take time to 
gather ourselves together for a mightier effort than usual ; 
and sometimes feeling, especially in the emotions that affect 
the larynx powerfully, seems to stand in the way of expres- 
sion, choking down the voice, and tying up the muscles, 
until the pent-up passion at last forces its way through every 
obstacle. Though our pupils, at this stage of their work, 
have no use for such extreme expressions, yet by accustoming 
them to pause frequently and long they not only acquire the 
power of reposeful expression, but lay the foundation for 
more difficult achievements. 



LESSON IV. 



Breathing-Exercises. 



Breathing-exercises are intended to increase the 
power and capacity of the lungs. 

Exercise I. 

Standing in the SjDeaker's Position, place both 
hands at the front of the waist, just below the breast- 
bone, in such a manner that the middle fingers of one 
hand just touch the middle fingers of the other. (1) 
Keeping the mouth closed, breathe in through the 
nose until the lungs are comfortably filled with air. 
Send the breath down toward the waist as if to push 
away the hands. (2) Breathe out slowly until you feel 
a sense of perfect relaxation (not exhaustion) at the 
waist ; then inhale as before. 

Repeat this exercise several times. Let the hand 
follow the inward movement at the waist when you 
exhale, without exerting pressure. 

Exeecise II. 

Have the same action of the breath, with the hands 
at the sides of the waist as in Exercise I. Here the 
hands may gently assist the inward movement. 

21 



22 . FOURTH LESSON. 

EXEECISE III. 

Place the hands at the small of the back and breathe 
as before. There should be a feeling of expansion 
and relaxation here, also, bnt it will not be so marked 
as in the other exercises. 

CAUTIONS. 

In all breathing-exercises there must be no con- 
sciousness of muscular effort. This is an important 
point. It is easy to push out and draw in the dia- 
phragm or the abdomen by more or less -violent mus- 
cular action ; and, with a little practice, an abnormal 
power of expansion and contraction may be developed 
in the waist-region, with the result of producing a 
strained and " muscular " quality of the voice, and 
utterly destroying the ease, flexibility and unconscious 
activity which are characteristic of all normal opera- 
tions of the healthy body. 

Expansion of the lungs everywhere must seem to 
be purely an act of the will, and not of the muscles. 
The air must seem to expand the lungs as a balloon is 
expanded by gas ; instead of which, vocalists often try 
to produce a vacuum by a violent pulling apart of the 
walls of the chest, and letting the air rush in as it will. 
I. call attention to this misconception of the subject, 
because it is held by teachers who should know better, 
and is a fruitful source of vocal faults, to say nothing 
of physical derangements. 

See that the waist and not the abdomen is the 
active centre. 



BREATHING-EXERCISES. 23 

Beware of overcrowding the lungs ; it is not the 
amount, but the control of breath that produces results. 

EXAMPLES OF DEEP BREATHING. 

Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all glories are ! 
And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre. 

Hurrah ! The foes are moving ! Hark to the mingled din 

Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin. 

Now, by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, 
Charge for the golden lilies now— upon them with the lance ! 

— Macaulay. 
Lord of the universe ! shield us and guide us, 

Trusting Thee always, through shadow and sun i 
Thou hast united us, who shall divide us ? 
Keep us, O keep us the many in one 1 
Up with our banner bright, 
Sprinkled with starry light, 
Spread its fair emblems from mountain to shore, 
While through the sounding sky, 
Loud rings the Nation's cry — 
Union and Liberty ! One evermore ! — Holmes. 

The stars shall fade away, the sun himself 

Grow dim with age, and Nature sink in years ; 

But thou shalt flourish in immortal youth, 

Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 

The wreck of matter, and the crush of worlds. — Addison. 

To the Teacher : — Breathing-exercises should be performed very 
gently and slowly, with only a medium supply of breath at 
first, and for but a short time each day. Delicate pupils are 
sometimes unequal to more than a few minutes of lung- 
exercise. Never force them beyond what can be done with 
perfect comfort. I am tempted to insert the customary pro- 
test against the barbarous and silly custom of tight lacing, 
but so much has been written and spoken against this utterly 
indefensible method of self destruction, that ignorance on 
such a vital point is inexcusable. Sensible parents and 
teachers know their duty: the law of the survival of the 
fittest will take care of the rest. 



LESSOH Y. 



Emphasia. 



John is short, James is tall. 

You could hardly make a mistake in the division of 
this sentence if you tried ; but it may be read in many 
ways, each of which would convey a different meaning. 
For instance, if some one had asked which of the boys 
was short, you would say : ' ' John is short. " If he 
should contradict you, you would assert emphatically: 
' ' John is short. " If he had asked whether John was 
short or tall, your reply would be : ' * John is short. ' ' 
If he had asked how he might know the boys apart, 
you might answer : ' ' John is short , James is tall. ' ' 
Each of these meanings is brought out by means of 
what is called emphasis, and the word that is made 
prominent is said to be emphatic. The unimportant 
words are said to be subordinate. 

In ordinary conversation we generally make the 
emphatic word prominent by giving it a higher pitch. 
When we are more earnest, we dwell a little longer 
upon the emphatic word than upon the other words in 
the phrase. If we wish to be very impressive, or to 



EMPHASIS. 25 

give the emphatic word extraordinary weight, we pause 
before it, as if to gather strength for utterance. This 
keeps the hearer in suspense, and compels him to notice 
the emphatic word when it is finally spoken. 

Reading should seem like conversation, and we should 
try to use these three methods of emphasis, as far as 
possible, just as we do in speech. 

It is not only unnecessary but vulgar in conversation 
to make the emphatic word louder or rougher than the 
rest, unless we are expressing some emotion that calls 
for greater power, or are trying to make ourselves heard, 
as in the following example : 

Call naturally ' ' come here ! come here ! come 
HERE ! ' ' increasing the emphasis with each repetition 
of the words. You will notice that the pitch of the 
word ' ' here ' ' is higher at each increase of emphasis. 
This will serve to illustrate the principle that the 
greater the emphasis, the higher is the pitch of 
the emphatic word compared with the pitch of the 
other words in the phrase, and the longer is it 
dwelt upon. 

Practise the following exercises. Notice that in 
natural speech the voice rises step by step, until the 
emphatic word is reached, and that if any words fol- 
low the emphatic word they are spoken more rapidly 
and with a downward movement of the voice : 



26 FIFTH LESSON. 

walk will t -,-, 

T will with T with 

1 you. I yon. 

.-,-, wait walk 

li7 on" for me , j will with ^ ^ 

Practise these with different degrees of emphasis and 
rates of movement. 

Emphasis is to a phrase what accent is to a word. 
For instance, we say ' ' education, ' ' just as we say ' ' I 
am writing. ' ' 

Other examples : 

wrong rith'- 

^r me, . = me- ,. 

xou ' sir a- tic. 

3 . . ten' ,. 

.2 4 K =** in tion ■, 
1 5 nn- ai. 

m7Z „ cred' ., 

walk .,, = it 

T wim -,. a ■■! 

1 yon. dis Die. 

The emphatic word is made lower than the rest for 
hideous, gloomy, or contemptible tilings : ' ' He is a 
beast, " u It is horrible ' ' ; and also when we wish to be 
very solemn : , " 'As God's above,' said Alice, the nurse, 
'I speak the truth.'*" Whole phrases and sentences 
move downward when we wish to be very impressive, 
especially at the end of paragraphs. So, also, when we 
feel depressed the voice tends downward, but in a lifeless 
instead of an energetic way : " Oh, how tired I am ! " 

"When two equally emphatic words are contrasted, 



EMPHASIS. 2? 

they usually have contrast or opposition of pitch, as 
" Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish." 

To the Teacher: — Write exercises similar to the above upon the 
blackboard, and accustom the pupils to follow the pointer, 
giving at once whatever emphasis you may indicate. Speak 
a simple sentence or, better still, a combination of letters, 
numbers, or vowel-sounds, and have the pupils write it upon 
the blackboard, indicating your emphasis and pauses, if there 
be any. The emphatic word may be delivered in a much 
softer tone than the rest of the phrase; and, if pitch and 
prolongation are correctly given, the meaning will be per- 
fectly clear. This is an excellent exercise for overcoming 
any tendency to boisterousness, and for acquiring a refined 
and reposeful delivery. Note carefully that emphasis is 
merely making an idea prominent, and that the simplest 
means are always the best. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

I had from childhood a thickness of speech arising from a large 
palate, and when a boy I used to be laughed at for talking as if I 
had pudding in my mouth. When I went to Amherst I was for- 
tunate in passing into the hands of John Lovell, a teacher of elo- 
cution, and a better teacher for my purpose I cannot conceive. 
His system consisted in drill, or the thorough practice of inflex- 
ions by the voice, of gesture, posture, and articulation. Some- 
times I was a whole hour practising my voice on a word — like 
justice. I would have to take a posture, frequently at a mark 
chalked out on the floor. Then we would go through all the 
gestures. * * * It was drill, drill, drill, until the motions 
almost became a second nature. Now, I never know what move- 
ments I shall make. My gestures are natural, because this drill 
made them natural to me. The only method of acquiring effect- 
ive elocution is by practice, of not less than an hour a day, until 
the student has his voice and himself thoroughly subdued and 
trained to right expression. — Henry Ward Beecher. 

The mountain and the squirrel had a quarrel, and the former 
called the latter " Little prig. " Bun replied, "You are doubtless 
very big, but all sorts of things and weather must be taken in to- 



28 FIFTH LESSON. 

gether to make up a year, and a sphere ; and I think it no dis- 
grace to occupy my place. If I'm not so large as you, you are 
not so small as I, and not half so spry. I'll not deny you make 
a very pretty squirrel track ! Talents differ ; all is well and wisely 
put ; if I cannot carry forests on my hack, neither can you crack 
a nut." — Emerson. 

The keynote to the oratory of Wendell Phillips lay in this: that 
it was essentially conversational — the conversational raised to its 
highest power. Perhaps no orator ever spoke with so little 
apparent effort, or began so entirely on the plane of his average 
hearers. It was as if he simply repeated, in a little louder tone, 
what he had just been saying to some familiar friend at his 
elbow. The effect was absolutely disarming. Those accustomed 
to spread-eagle eloquence felt, perhaps, a slight sense of disap- 
pointment. Could this quiet, easy, effortless man be Wendell 
Phillips? But. he held them by his very quietness; it did not 
seem to have occurred to him to doubt his power to hold them. 
The poise of his manly figure, the easy grace of his attitude, the 
thrilling modulation of his perfectly trained voice, the dignity of 
his gesture, the keen penetration of his eye, all aided to keep his 
hearers in hand. The colloquialism was never relaxed, but it 
was familiarity without loss of keeping. What the Eevolutionary 
orators would now seem to us, we cannot tell : but it is pretty 
certain that, of all our post-Revolutionary speakers, save Webster 
only, Wendell Phillips stood at the head ; while he and Webster 
represented types of oratory so essentially different that any 
comparison between them is like trying to compare an oak tree 
and a pine. — T. W. Higginson. 

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold, 
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea 
When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, 
That host with their banners at sunset were seen ; 
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, 
That host on the morrow lay withered and strown. 



EMPHASIS. %9 



For the Angel of Death spread his wing 3 on the blast; 
And breathed in the face of the foe as lie passed ; 
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 
And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still, 

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 

And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; 

And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 

Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord ! — Byron. 

Be careful to avoid a sing-song style in reading this, 

Pleasantly rose next morn the sun on the village of Grand-Pre. 
Pleasantly gleamed in the soft, sweet air the Basin of Minas, 
Where the ships, with their wavering shadows, were riding at 

anchor. 
Life had long been astir in the village, and clamorous labor 
Knocked with its hundred hands at the golden gates of the 

morning. 

Now from the country around, from the farms and the neighbor- 
ing hamlets, 
Came in their holiday dresses the blithe Acadian peasants. 
Many a glad good-morrow and jocund laugh from the young folk 
Made the bright air brighter, as up from the numerous meadows, 
Where no path could be seen but the track of wheels in the 

greensward, 
Group after group appeared, and joined, or passed on the high- 
way. 

Long ere noon in the village all sounds of labor were silenced. 
Thronged were the streets with people ; and noisy groups at the 

house-doors 
Sat in the cheerful sun, and rejoiced and gossiped together. 
Every house was an inn, where all were welcomed and feasted ; 
For with this simple people, who lived like brothers together, 
All things were held in common, and what one had was another's. 

— Longfellow. 



LESSON VI. 



Position.— Continued. 



EXEECISE III. 



Attitude of Bespect. 

Stand with the heels touching, the feet 
being turned out at an angle of about 
sixty degrees. Bear the weight of the 
body upon the balls of both feet equally. 
Have both legs straight, and knees firm. 
Have no inclination of the body to either 
side. Let the head be perfectly erect, 
with eyes looking straight forward. The 
arms fall at the sides as in the Speaker's 
Position. Do not lift or draw back the 
head or shoulders, nor push forward the 
hips so as to hollow the back. 

This is called the position of Eespect, 
and is the formal attitude when about to 
bow. It is very like that of the soldier 
on dress parade, and says : " I am at your service.' 1 

30 




POSITION. 31 

EXEKCISE IY. 

For Getting the Weight of the Body upon the Ball of the 
Foot 

Standing as described on page 24, rise slowly npon 
the balls of the feet until the heels are at a considerable 
distance from the ground, then slowly return to the 
original position. Do not change the attitude of the 
body in the least during this exercise. Inhale slowly 
as you rise, and let the breath go as slowly while 
descending. 

If the body has to poise forward before it can rise, 
the weight is on the heels and the position is incorrect. 
Watch that the body does not sag back upon the 
heels when you return to position, and practise this 
exercise until carrying the weight of the body upon 
the ball of the foot becomes a habit ; see that you do 
so at all times while walking or standing. In rising 
there is often a tendency to push the hips out in front 
or draw the shoulders back ; avoid even the slightest 
tendency to do either. 

Do not cramp the body, but let everything be done 
with perfect ease. Try to feel as if you were buoyed 
up by the air, as you would be in the water. 

Eemember that the more slowly you practise all ex- 
ercises, the greater will be your control over the 
muscles. Nervous, jerky movements mean lack of con- 
trol, and result in habits of angular, awkward action. 
Grace comes fi'om the perfect command of every mus- 
cle, even the smallest. 



LESSON VII. 



Inflection. 



We have seen that the words in a phrase, like the 
syllables in a word, differ in pitch ; that is, thai 
speech, like music, has melody. Not only is this th( 
case, but in every syllable the voice is constantly 
moving up or down the scale. It is in this respecl 
that speech differs most widely from song, where every 
note must be sustained on a level. This movement or 
bending of the voice on a word is called inflection. 

The inflections of the voice are very numerous, and 
we shall have occasion later to study many of them ; 
for the present, however, we will confine ourselves to 
the two simplest : the rising and the falling. 

The rising inflection (') indicates uncertainty, 
doubt, indifference, timidity or deference to the will of 
the person addressed. 

EXAMPLES. 

Is it John ? = uncertainty, doubt, timidity. 
Will you come? = deference to the hearer. 
Certainly = indifference. 

3? 



INFLECTION. 33 

The falling inflection ( v ) is positive, and denotes 
completeness, certainty, and expresses the will of the 
speaker. 

EXAMPLES. 
It is John. 

Will you come ?= " you must come." 
Certainly. 

Rising inflections start from the lower or middle 
tones of the voice and sweep upward. 

Falling inflections strike a high pitch and sweep 
downward. 

Just as with the melody of emphasis, the extent of 
the inflection will depend upon the strength of feeling 
behind it. Sometimes, as in great surprise, the voice 
sweeps through the compass of an octave on a single 
word. In ordinary speech, the range is very narrow. 
Practise the exercises in Lesson V., with many degrees 
of both rising and falling inflection, until you can com- 
mand them at will. 

In ordinary questions and in phrases which imply 
indifference or timidity on the part of the speaker, the 
words following the emphatic word tend upward in- 
stead of downward, as in a positive statement. Here 
the wider range of inflection distinguishes the emphatic 
word from the rest of the phrase. It is as if the im- 
pulse of the emphatic word carried the remaining 
words uj)ward in spite of themselves. E.g., Are you 
sure of it ? 

When a question is asked with great earnestness it 



34 SEVENTH LE8S0N. 

often has the falling inflection, much as if it were a 
positive statement. Compare : Can you prove it ? I 
can prove it. 

Where wilt thou lead me ? speak ; I'll go no further. 

Inflection indicates the state of the speaker's 
mind; it has nothing to do with the grammatical 
construction of the sentence. 

Positive statements are sometimes put in the form 
of a question for greater effect. E. g., Isn't it so? 
Would jou have believed it ? Is it not wonderful ? 
meaning, it is so ; yon would not have believed it ; it 
is wonderful. Questions like these are not asked for 
information ; they answer themselves. These ' ' rhe- 
torical questions," as they are called, may sometimes 
be given with a rising inflection; generally, however, 
they are spoken with a falling slide of the voice. 

Bemember March, the Ides of March remember! 
Did not great Julius bleed for Justice' sake ? 
What villain touch'd his body, that did stab, 
And not for justice ? 

A positive statement that is closely connected with 
what follows has a slight rise or bend of the voice at the 
very end, which shows that the thought is not yet com- 
pletely stated : a I will walk with you, but not now, ' % 

The day is done, and the darkness 

Falls from the wings of Night, 
As a feather is wafted downward 

From an eagle in his flight.— Longfellow. 



INFLECTION. 35 

To the Teacher : — Drill the pupils separately and in unison, in 
various keys and through as wide a range of inflection as 
possible without straining their voices. The object of this 
practice is not to lay down cast-iron rules, to be followed 
mechanically, but to give the pupil command over his voice. 
The minute shades of inflection which give so many subtile 
and beautiful effects in conversation, and occasional depart- 
ures from the general type of melodic movement in phrases 
and sentences, especially in what are known as "final 
cadences," should be allowed and encouraged when they are 
true to nature. Be careful, however, that they do not degen- 
erate into mannerisms or tunes. Teach the pupil to associate 
inflection with conditions of the mind, rather than with the 
ear. For instance, instead of saying " give this word a fall- 
ing inflection," say "speak more positively" or "more earn- 
estly. " When the ear is deficient, this is the only method ; 
but, if patiently followed, it will prove efficacious even in the 
most obdurate cases. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

Notice that no two of these examples are to be read 
exactly like ; each expresses some feeling that is not in 
the others. These delicate shades of meaning cannot be 
indicated by the marks of inflection. Endeavor to express 
the emotions that are indicated by the words in brackets. 

Brutus. I did send to you for gold, to pay my legions, 
Which you denied me. [Contempt and anger.'] 

Cassius. I denied you not. [Indignantly.] 

Bru. You did. 

Cas. I did not ! He was but a fool 
That brought my answer back.— Shakespeare. 

Let your companions be select ; let them be such as you can 
love for their good qualities, and whose virtues you are desirous 
co emulate. [Persuasively. ] 

I do not rise to waste the night in words ; 
Let that plebeian talk, 'tis not my trade ; 
But here I stand for right — let him show proofs— 



36 SEVENTH LESSON. 

For Roman right, though none, it seems, dare stand 
To take their share with me. — Croly. 
[Haughty contempt] 

Have you heard the story the gossips tell 
Of John Burns, of Gettysburg ? — Harte. 
[Simple question.] 

And do you now put on your best attire ? 
And do you now cull out a holiday ? 
And do you now strew flowers in his way, 
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood ? 

[Surprise and reproach. ] — Shakespeare. 

Did you ever notice what life and power the Holy Scriptures have 
when well read ? Have you ever heard of the wonderful effect 
produced by Elizabeth Fry on the criminals of Newgate, by simply 
reading to them the parable of the Prodigal Son ? Princes and peers 
of the realm, it is said, counted it a privilege to stand in the dismal 
corridors, among felons and murderers, merely to share with 
them the privilege of witnessing the marvelous pathos which 
genius, taste, and culture could infuse into that simple story. 
[Earnestly. ]—Hart. 

Who can look down upon the grave, even of an enemy, and not 
feel a compunctious throb that he should ever have warred with 
the poor handful of earth that lies mouldering before him? 
[Reflectively and with sympathy.] — Addison. 

Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, 

Is the immediate jewel of their souls; [Very earnestly.] 

Who steals my purse steals trash ; 'tis something, nothing ; ently. ] 

'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands ; [Indiffer- 

But he that filches from me my good name 

Robs me of that which not enriches him, 

And makes me poor indeed. [Seriously.] — Shakespeare. 



LESSON VIII. 



Position. — Continued. 



EXEKCISE V. 

Swaying the Hip. 

Stand in the Speaker's Position, 
let us say upon the right foot. 
Place the hands upon the hips 
at the broadest part (not at the 
waist). Slowly push the hip across 
with the right hand until the 
weight of the body has been 
changed to the left side. Let 
everything else follow the move- 
ment of the hip. When this exer- 
cise is properly performed, the 
body will be in perfect poise upon 
■ t the left foot. Return again in the 
same way to the right foot, and 
fig. 3. repeat many times. 

Avoid jerks and twists of the body everywhere. 

37 




38 EIGHTH LESSON. 

Exercise YI. 

Flexibility. 

Standing as before, carry the hip outward at the 
strong side as far as possible, without losing the balance 
or stiffening the body. The shoulders will, of course, 
move in the opposite direction. Be careful not to bend 
the knee nor let the chest collapse. Return to the erect 
position and repeat. Then change the weight to the • 
opposite foot and practise in the same way. (See 
Fig. 3.) 

Inflection. — Continued. 
Monotone. 

When the voice has little or no inflection, we are said 
to speak in monotone. The monotone is appropriate to 
passages of great solemnity. It is often heard when we 
call to someone at a distance. It is usually indicated as 
in the following examples : 

Lord of the universe, shield us and guide us ! 

Come back, come back, Horatius ! 
Back, Lartius! Back, Herminius! 
Back, ere the ruin fall ! 

In suspense and reflection the- voice approaches the 
monotone. 

Hush ! Hark ! Did stealing steps go by ? 
The curfew tolls the knell of parting day. 



POSITION. 39 

To the Teacher :— Practise Exercises V. and VI. with the feet 
apart at various widths, and, as soon as the movement is 
understood, with the arms hanging at the sides. Later, have 
the pupil go through the exercises with the free foot behind 
and around the strong ankle, also swaying the arms above 
the head. Be careful to distinguish between Melody, dis- 
cussed in Lesson V. , and Inflection. Melody has to do with 
pitch -relation between different words or syllables ; Inflection 
notes the variation in pitch of the syllable itself. In the last 
example, for instance, while the Inflection of each word 
approaches the monotone, there is decided downward pro- 
gression in the Melody of the line. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE IN MONOTONE. 

Be careful not to chant. ' There is always in speech 
some degree of inflection, except when suggesting or 
imitating a musical sound. Notice the varied shades of 
expression required in these examples. Think of the 
emotion rather than of imitating a particular tone. 

The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
The solemn temples, the great globe itself — 
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, 
And, like this unsubstantial pageant, faded, 
Leave not a rack behind. — Shakespeare. 

A boom ! — the lighthouse gun ! 

(How its echo rolls and rolls !) 
'Tis to warn the home -bound ships 

Off the shoals ! — Aldrich. 

And once behind a rick of barley. 
Thus looking out did Harry stand ; 
The moon was full and shining clearly, 
And crisp with frost the stubble land. 
He hears a noise — he's all awake — 
Again ! — on tiptoe down the hill 
He softly creeps. — Wordsworth. 



40 EIGHTH LESSON. 

Somewhat back from the village street 
Stands the old-fashioned country-seat; 
Across its antique portico 
Tall poplar trees their shadows throw; 
And, from its station in the hall, 
An ancient timepiece says to all, 
' ' Forever — never ! 
Never — forever ! " — Longfellow. 

Lord, thou hast been our dwelling-place in all generations. 
Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever thou hadst 
formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to ever- 
lasting, thou art God. — David. 



LESSOR IX. 



The Vocal Apparatus, 



"Whenever we speak or sing, we make use of the 
lungs, the larynx, the mouth and the nose. 

The lungs are contained in the cavity of the chest 
and furnish the breath, which is to speech what the 
steam is to an engine. When the supply of steam is 
low in the boiler, the engine comes to a standstill, and 
when the supply of breath is less than it should be, it 



THE VOOAL APPARATUS 41 

is impossible to speak well. It is important, therefore, 
to learn to keep the breath back while speaking, and 
not allow it to escape faster than is necessary ; also to 
increase the capacity of the kings for containing air. 
It is for this reason that we practise breathing-exer- 
cises, which strengthen and develop the lungs and 
give control of the breath. It is quite as important, 
however, that we should be able to let the breath go 
at will as that w r e should be able to retain it, and we 
should pay just as much attention to the relaxing- 
movements which occur when we cease to hold the 
breath. This relaxation must be natural and gentle. 
The lungs should not collapse like a bursted bag, but 
the air must pass out quietly as it entered. Until we 
have gained control of the breath, all exercises should 
be practised very slowly. After a time, however, we 
may also practise taking and letting go of the breath 
suddenly, being very careful that movements are never 
violent. 

The breastbone has an important function in voice- 
production. It acts like the sounding-board of a piano 
or a violin, and serves to increase the resonance of the 
voice. If the chest be passive or sunken, the tone 
will be weak, no matter how much force we use ; on 
the contrary, if the chest be active, the tones of the 
voice will be strong and vigorous. 

The windpipe or trachea is the tube through which 
the air passes from the mouth to the lungs and back 
again. At its upper part it expands into a sort of box, 



M NINTH LESSON. 

the front of which may be felt in the throat under the 
chin. This part of the windpipe is called the laeynx. 
It opens into the mouth just back of the root of the 
tongue. When we swallow, this opening is closed so 
as to prevent the food from getting into the windpipe, 
which is both unpleasant and dangerous ; when we 
speak, however, it is necessary to have this opening as 
free as possible. 

All vocal sounds are begun in the larynx, which has 
within it a pair of lips called the vocal bands or coeds. 
The edges of these are set in vibration by the air, as a 
violin string is by the bow or the reed of a clarinet by 
the breath of the player. Those of us who whistle 
adjust the lips and produce sound in much the same 
way that nature adjusts the vocal bands and produces 
speech ; only nature, being a much more clever artist 
than the best whistler, manages her task in a far more 
delicate and perfect manner. She knows exactly how 
to make the sound we wish, and only asks us to let 
her^lone and give her all the room possible in the 
mouth, in order to let the sound out after it is made. 
The throat, therefore, should be perfectly free and 
unconstrained, and we should particularly avoid mak- 
ing chewing or swallowing movements during sj^eech, 
which, as we have seen, tend to shut the voice in. 

Do not open the mouth so wide that the speech 
seems labored, nor keep it so tightly closed that the 
sounds seem to come through the teeth ; it should be 
opened gently and comfortably. Do not pull the jaw 



THE VOCAL APPARATUS. 43 

down, but let it relax naturally at the back, as if it 
dropped away from the upper jaw. 

Let the tongue lie loosely and easily in the mouth. 
Do not twist it about unnecessarily nor cramp it in 
trying to keep it quiet. If the tongue persists in ris- 
ing at the back so as to obstruct the sound, practise 
the vocal exercises with the tip pressed against the 
teeth and the back drawn down as in gaping, until the 
bad habit is overcome. Do not make this manner of 
practising habitual, however, or you will injure your 
voice. We shall have more to say of the tongue when 
we come to the subject of articulation. 

It is important that the passages in the nose be kept 

free and open for the passage of sound. The practice 

of humming for a few minutes daily is of value for 

gaining " head-resonance," as it is called ; that is, 

vibration of the resonance-chambers in the face. 

To the Teacher :— Illustrate some of the wrong ways of using the 
vocal apparatus ; for instance, speaking with collapsed chest, 
"nasal," "throaty" and "muscular'* qualities, and impress 
upon the minds of pupils the necessity for a simple and unaf- 
fected manner of speaking with pure, resonant tone. Correct 
bad habits whenever they appear. If you teach other subjects, 
do not wait for the elocution hour, but insist that the multipli- 
cation-table be given a meaning as well as the reading-lesson. 
The habit of refined conversation is of more importance than 
the acquirement of a few showy pieces for exhibition purposes. 
The foregoing lesson may be used with good results as a study 
in emphasis, as the meaning will thereby be brought home to 
every pupil— an important point, as this lesson furnishes the key 
to many succeeding exercises. 



LESSON X. 



Vocal Exercises. 



" Start " of the Tone. 
Practise breathing-exercises for a few minutes as in 
Lesson IV., but breathing through the mouth as well 
as through the nose, letting the jaw fall easily. We 
should always breathe through the nose except in 
speaking or singing, when we use the mouth also. 

EXEECISE I. 

(1) Open the mouth as if to say ah. Be very care- 
ful that there is no constraint at the throat, and that 
the back of the tongue does not rise in the mouth. 

(2) Slowly inhale through the mouth. 

(3) As soon as an ordinary breath has been taken, 
trying not to allow any air to escape from the lungs, 
pronounce in a moderately loud tone the vowel-sound 
ah, as if asking a question. 

(4) The instant the sound ceases, let the breath go ; 
then, without closing the mouth, and still keeping the 
jaw relaxed, breathe in again and repeat the exercise. 

Practise in a series of ten repetitions. Use also the 
sounds a, e, o, and do. 

44 



VOCAL EXERCISES. 45 

Eemember (a) to retain the breath while making 
the sound ; (b) to let the breath go the instant the 
sound ceases ; (c) to keep the open, relaxed position 
of the throat and mouth during each series. 

EXEECISE II. 

Practise in the same way, sustaining the tone on a 
level as in singing. 

Exekcise III. 

Practise with falling inflection. 

These exercises should also be practised with the 

hands in the various positions indicated in Lesson IY., 

in order to be certain of the proper action of the 

breathing-apparatus. 

To the Teacher : — At first the pupil should not he allowed to pro- 
long the sound in any of these exercises beyond the time that 
would naturally be occupied in an ordinary interrogative slide. 
After practice, however, pupils should be drilled in sustained 
tones, with instrumental accompaniment if possible, until a fair 
amount of sustaining power is acquired. Watch carefully in all 
these exercises that the tone starts full and free and with pre- 
cisely the same quality and volume at the beginning as during 
the continuation. See that the pupil conquers the tendency to 
shut the throat just before beginning. Do not work for noise 
but for good quality of tone. The tone should not be pushed 
out. but should seem almost to be drawn in from without. See 
that all activity is confined to the breathing-apparatus ; it is the 
breath which governs the tone. After a time, practise with 
crescendo, diminuendo and swell-effects. In the very beginning I 
work only for the sense of perfect relaxation, paying no attention 
to the fact that the tone at first is sure to be unmusical, because 
badly placed. Afterward, but not until the habit of control by the 
breathing-apparatus exclusively is firmly fixed, I direct the pupil's 
attention to the quality of his voice, but making improvement so 
gradual that freedom is never sacrificed to anxiety for rapid prog- 



LESSON XI. 



Articulation. 



If we completely relax the jaw, lips, and tongue, 
opening the mouth just wide enough to let out the 
sound, and then vocalize in the most indifferent man- 
ner possible, we produce something between a grunt 
and the sound of u in hurt The sound is indefinite — 
inarticulate. Very likely the earliest attempts at 
speech were little better than a series of such vague 
sounds, more or less modified by different positions of 
the jaw and tongue. As the race progressed in lan- 
guage-making these sounds became more clearly de- 
fined and further separated from one another ; more 
delicate variations were introduced, the sounds were 
combined in various ways, until, at last, man possessed 
articulate language. 

Articulation has been defined as " the correct and 
elegant delivery of the elementary sounds in sylla- 
bles and words." 

These are classified as vowels and consonants. 

The vowels are the foundation- sounds of the lan- 
guage. They are formed by various positions of the 
tongue and lips, which modify but do not obstruct the 



ARTICULATION. 47 

flow jf sound. Ah {a in father), a, e, o, do are exam- 
ples. 

The consonants are formed by positions of the 
tongue, teeth, or lips, which, for the time, interfere with 
the vowel-sound. For example, if you press the tip 
of the tongue against the upper teeth, as if to pro- 
nounce t or d, you will find it inijDossible to give a 
vowel-sound, a, for instance. If, now, you allow the 
tongue to fall quickly back into -its natural position 
just as you are about to say a, you will get the combi- 
nation t'd or del. It is this "recoil " of the tongue, as 
we call it, that makes the consonant distinct. 

We begin our studies in articulation with the vow- 
els. The tone as it comes from the larynx is molded 
into the various vowel-sounds by the different posi- 
tions of the tongue and lij)s. The jaw always remains 
relaxed, although in some vowels it is not so wide 
open as in others. 

We have already practised some of the vowel-sounds ; 
we shall now, however, take them up in regular order, 
beginning with e, as in eel. 

1. Uis made with the forward part of the tongue 
near the roof of the mouth. The tong'ue is higher and 
the jaws are nearer together in forming this vowel than 
in any other. For this reason it is one of the most diffi- 
cult sounds to give properly, that is, with good tone, 
since the tendency in most of us is to cramp the throat 
whenever the tongue is active. Ah is one of the easi- 
est of vowel-sounds, and vou will find it useful to 



48 TWELFTH LESSON. 

make first the sound a or 6 and in the same breath 
change to e, keeping the quality of voice the same and 
not allowing the back of the tongue to rise. In this 
vowel, as we have said, the jaw cannot open so widely 
as in the more open sounds. Let it take its natural 
position, without cramping it. 

What is said here with regard to the throat, back of 
tongue and jaw, refers to other vowels as well, and is 
to be understood without further repetition. 

2. If the middle of the tongue be very slightly de- 
pressed while pronouncing £,.tke sound becomes that 
of short I, as in III. This sound is hard to sustain at 
first, as it tends to go back to long e. Practise until 
this tendencv is overcome. 



LESSON XII. 



Flexibility. 



Everyone who would speak or recite with good 
effect must have not merely mental capacity, but com- 
mand over the body and the voice, the instruments 
through which he expresses himself. 

Awkwardness, a weak or disagreeable voice, or in- 
distinct articulation may spoil the effect of the most 
brilliant composition ; while a graceful and clear de- 
livery will often make a very commonplace subject 
interesting, 



FLEXIBILITY. 49 

Faults in delivery are caused either by wrong con- 
ditions of the joints and muscles that are used in ges- 
ture and speech, thereby preventing the proper action 
of the parts, or by lack of control over the muscles, 
so that we use the wrong set or do not iise the right 
set properly. 

It is evident that if we wish to gain control of the 
body we must first get rid of wrong actions and con- 
ditions ; in other words, before we begin to strengthen 
the parts, we must render them flexible and pliable. 
It is of no use to practise opening the hand, for in- 
stance, so long as the muscles which shut the hand 
refuse to relax and allow the other set to act freely ; 
we shall only be straining the delicate tendons and 
rendering the action more awkward than before. 
Therefore we must first learn to relax ; afterward we 
shall study to get control of the parts. 

Exercise I. 
Hands and Fingers. 

Lift the forearm a little in front of the body, with 
the hand and fingers hanging down in a lifeless man- 
ner. Hold the arm in this position until 
the hand has become perfectly passsive 
and you can feel that its own weight is 
drawing it downward. This means that 
the muscles that hold the hand and fingers 
in position have completely relaxed. See Fig. 4. 
that the fingers hang as loosely as the fringe on a shawl. 




50 TWELFTH LESSON. 

When you have attained this state of perfect pliabil- 
ity, which may require many days or even weeks 
of persevering practice, shake the hand gently by 
moving the arm up and down, then sideways, and fi- 
nally in a circle. Be very careful that the hand and 
fingers remain passive and are simply shaken about 
by the arm. 

Practise this exercise in various positions, i.e., palm 
up, palm down, and with the hand held edgewise, until 
you have gained the ability to put the hand in a pas- 
sive state whenever and wherever you wish. 

Exercise II. 

Wrists. 
Practise the same movements with the arms stretched 




Incorrect. FlG. 5. 

out at the sides and in front, with one arm at a time 
at first, then with both together. Be careful to hold 
the arm straight, without relaxing at the elbow, and 
to move the arm from the shoulder. 



LESSON XIII. 



Minor Inflections. 



The rising and falling inflections used in ordinary 
discourse are termed major inflections. We have 
also minor inflections, used in expressions of pity, 
weakness, or horror. Good examples of the minor in- 
flection are the cries "Help!" "Mercy !" moans, and 
similar expressions of physical suffering ; exclamations 
of a dejected character like " Oh, dear me !" "Alas !" 
and expressions of pity such as, "poor fellow," " poor 
doggie," etc. 

Minor inflections may be either rising or falling. 

Ob dear, must I go to school ? 
Oh dear, I must go to school ! 

In pathetic passages, readers are apt to overdo the 
minor inflections, so that the reading becomes little 
better than a whine. Avoid this ; remember that the 
use of the minor slide always indicates a degree of 
weakness in the speaker, and that it is appropriate 
only when we wish to convey that particular impres- 
sion. 

51 



52 THIRTEENTH LESSON. 

EXAMPLES. 

I'm a hopeless, unfortunate creature, 
I'm tortured with sorrow and pain, 

I'm twisted in figure and feature ; 
However, I never complain. — Stanley Wood. 

Oh, my lord, 
Must I then leave you ? must I needs forego 
So good, so noble, and so true a master ? 

— Shakespeare. 

O my son Absalom ! my son, my son Absalom ! 
Would God I had died for thee, O Absalom, my son, my son ! 

— II. Samuel. 

" Oh, dear," said Father Brown, one day, 

"I never saw such weather! 
The rain will spoil my meadow hay 
And all my crops together. " 
His little daughter climbed his knee ; 
" I guess the sun will shine," said she. 

Position. — Continued. 

Exercise VII. 
Transition of Poise. 

Standing with one foot well in advance of the other, 
the arms hanging loosely at the sides, change the weight 
forward and back, always being careful to begin the 
movement with the hip, and to keep the shoulders as 
quiet as possible. Do not shuffle the feet. 

Practise this exercise with the feet at various angles, 
until you accustom yourself to a graceful movement of 
the body in any direction. Be sure to look in the 
new direction before making a transition. 



LESSON XIV. 



Flexibility.— Continued. 



\ 

i 



Exercise III. 
For Muscles of the Neck and Jaw. 

(a) Holding the head erect, close the eyes as if about 
to go to sleep. Let the jaw fall lifelessly. Try to feel 
and look as stupid and lazy as possible. Now let the 
head drop forward as if the 
strength were gone from the 
muscles of the neck. After a 
moment, during which you 
should try to feel, if possible, 
still more lifeless about the 
head, neck, and shoulders, raise 
the head slowly, with the jaw 
dropped as before and carry it back as far as possible. 
Best in this attitude for a moment, then repeat the 
exercise. 

The body should assist the movements of the head 
by bending forward a little for the first position and 
back for the second, but it must not relax. The exer- 
cise is for the head and neck and for such muscles as 

53 




54 



FOURTEENTH LESSON. 



connect these parts with the shoulders. We must 
learn to control each part of the body separately before 
we can hope to gain command of the whole. 

(b) Sway the head from side to side in the same 
manner as above described. 

(c) Circle the head ; that is> let it go from front to 
side, then back, then to the other side, and finally 
return to the front, — making the movement continu- 
ous but with the muscles as passive as possible. 

Exekcise IY. 
For Flexibility of the Legs. 

(a) Stand with one foot on the edge of a platform or 

low bench, so that the free leg hangs over the edge. 

Be careful to keep well poised. Let the free leg hang 

until you feel all the 
muscles about the hij) 
relax and the limb be- 
comes a dead weight. 
Be sure that the knee 
and foot also are en- 
tirely passive. The 
body should be erect 
upon the strong foot 
in a position like that 
of Eespect, so that the 
fig. 7. hip may be as far as 

possible over the free side in order to give plenty of 

room for the free leg. 




FLEXIBILITY. 55 

(b) Standing as before, lift the free leg in front, with 
the knee and foot still relaxed, and then allow it to fall 
back lifelessly. If the muscles of the free leg are per- 
fectly flexible, the leg will swing back and forth for a 
considerable time, like a pendulum. Let it come to 
rest of its own accord. 

If this exercise is too difficult at first, practise lift- 
ing and dropping the leg while standing on the floor. 
Of course, the leg cannot swing to and fro but must 
come to rest at once. Here the poise of the body 
should be as in the Speaker's Position. 

The Vowels. — Continued. 

3. A, as in ale. This vowel has one peculiarity that 
deserves attention. If we speak 2 word like pay or 
may, we notice that the final sound is not that of a 
at all, but exactly that of long e, iiius, pde, mde. You 
would find it difficult to pronounce either of these 
words and omit this vanishing sound or "glide," as it 
is sometimes called. The vanish or glide of the vowel 
d is one characteristic of a refined pronunciation. 
Before the vowel e, however, the vanish vanishes en- 
tirely, e.g. t d-erial. Be careful not to overdo this pe- 
culiarity ; on the other hand, do not clijD the vowel so 
short that the effect of the glide is lost. 

4. Aa before r, as in care, fair, air ; also heard in 
where, ne'er, Aaron, wear, and similar words. 

5. E, short, as in ell, sell, tell ; also many, bury, said, 
^opard, guess. 



56 FOURTEENTH LESSON. 

6. A, short, as in an, can, fan ; also plaid, raillery, 
etc. 

Notice that we are studying the sounds not merely 
the letters, and that in English one letter has often 
many very different sounds, and one sound is often 
represented in many different ways. E, for instance, is 
exactly like i yd. fatigue, ua in quay, ei in deceive, eo in 
people. I is heard in pretty, ivomen, guinea, forfeit. A 
is heard in gauge, vein, obey. For that reason, we find 
it most convenient to call the sounds by their numbers 
rather than by their alphabetical names, thus, 1st or 
2d sound, etc. 

To the Teacher: — These sounds follow each other in the order 
laid down by Prof. A. Melville Bell. From him I have also taken 
many of the illustrations. While no one pupil is deficient in all 
or many of these sounds, I have rarely found in my own experience 
a pupil who was perfect in every vowel. We have the testimony of 
no less a celebrity than Wendell Phillips to the practical value of 
careful drill in the elements of articulation. Occasional mistakes 
may be forgiven ; but habitual disregard of the fundamentals of 
good pronunciation is inexcusable. 1 have not attempted to ar- 
range the sounds in the order of their difficulty for the reason that 
no arrangement could be made that would answer for all or even a 
majority of our pupils. Special exercises should be assigned to 
individuals who are greatly deficient. Such may be found in the 
works of Bell, Monroe, and others, and in various treatises on voice- 
culture, stammering, etc. 



LESSON XV. 



Emphasis.— Conxinned. 



RULES FOR ANALYSIS. 

I. — T he emphatic word is the word that completes 
the new idea or picture. 

EXAMPLES. 

I watch the mowers ns they go. 

Henceforth let me not hear you speak of Mortimer. 

— Shakespeare. 

[Mortimer lias already been spoken of in several 
preceding speeches (Henry IV., part 1.), otherwise the 
emphasis would fall on the name. See next rule.] 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand. 

— Whit tier. 

II. — A word once emphasized should not receive 
emphasis when repeated, unless it is repeated for 
intensity, or used with a new meaning - . 

EXAMPLES. 

That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter, 
It is most true ; true, I have married her, [not " true I have 
married her," — the new idea is " married."] 



58 FIFTEENTH LESSON. 

Marhllus. But what trade art thou ? Answer me 

[straightforwardly.] 
2d Citizen. A trade, sir, that I hope I may use with a safe con- 
science ; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of had soles. 
Marulltjs. What trade, thou knave? [emphasis for intensity.] 

thou naughty knave, what trade ? 
2d Citizen. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me ;yet if you 
be out, sir, I can mend you. 

— Shak 



A horse a horse, [intensity] my kingdom for a horse. 

ware. 



I never would lay down my arms — never, never, NEVER. 

III. — No word that can be omitted and still leave 
the meaning of the phrase clear, is emphatic, unless 
the word is used for intensity. With this exception, 
that word is most emphatic, which, when left out, 
would most completely destroy the meaning of the 
phrase or sentence. 

EXAMPLES. 
True, I have married her. 

Here it is evident that the omission of "married " 
would utterly obscure the meaning. We could say, 
" True, I have married," and the meaning would be 
less obscure. "I have married her," would not 
change the meaning in the least ; " true — married 
her," while not graceful nor good English, would still 
be understood in connection with the preceding por- 
tions of the speech. 



EMPHASIS. 59 

I shall have nothing at all. 

In this example the word that cannot be omitted is 
certainly ' ' nothing ; ' ' yet we naturally throw the 
emphasis upon " all," a word that evidently is not 
necessary to the phrase, for, " I shall have nothing," 
wonld express the meaning quite as clearly. The reason 
for this apparent violation of our rule is that the expres- 
sion ' ' at all " is inserted especially for emphasis. Like 
"none whatever," it makes the idea more vivid. A 
good writer or speaker will use these expressions spar- 
ingly ; they are like other extreme means for emphasis, 
allowable only when simpler ones fail. 

We sometimes find two or more words combined to 
express what one cannot indicate fully. ' ' Mender-of - 
bad-soles " is an example. ' ' ]STothing-at-all " might be 
considered as a similar combination. These groups are 
called " oratorical words," and are read as if they were 
compound words with the accent falling on the accented 
syllable of the last word, like " nevertheless," which is 
really a group of three words. 

If the war must go on, why put off longer the declaration of 
Independence f 

Yea, though I walk through the valley-of-the-shadoiv-of -death, 
I shall fear no evil. 

Notice that in these sentences you will give a wrong 
impression if you emphasize only one of the italicized 
words. Of course, the unimportant words, of, the, at, 
and the like, are passed over lightly, just as if they 
were unaccented syllables of a long word. 



LESSON XVI. 



For Independence of the Legs. 



Exercise I. 

Standing in the Speaker's Position, carry the free 
foot forward as far as possible, that is, until the toe 
can barely touch, the floor ; then carry the foot back 
in the same way. Be careful that the body does not 
twist around, nor move forward and back with the 
leg. Have no sense of effort anywhere. 

Exercise II. 

Carry the free foot out at the side, then across the 
body to the opposite side in the same manner as in 
Exercise I. 

Exercise III. 

Describe as great a part of a circle as possible with 
the free foot around the strong foot, the body remain- 
ing perfectly stationary. 

Remember that the proper position of the body 
must be maintained without cramping the muscles or 
stiffening the joints, which would defeat the object of 

60 



THE VOWELS. 61 

all our exercises, which is to do everything as easily 
and gracefully as possible. Therefore, begin with 
slow movements and carry the foot to a moderate 
distance in each direction, increasing gradually both 
the rapidity and the extent of the action. 

The Vowels. — Continued. 

7. A obscure. This is the sound that is heard in 
unaccented syllables as, for instance, arrival, avenge, 
Abominable. 

8. A intermediate. This sound is between the 
short, somewhat flat sound of a in an or at, and the 
so-called " Italian " sound of a in ah, father. Ex- 
amples : ask, task, fast, not ask, task, fast. 

9. A in father, mart, ah, part ; also heard in haunt, 
hearty, guardian. 

Carefully distinguish between sounds 8 and 9. 
Practise all vocal exercises and inflections with each 
sound until it is always at command. 
Speech Gamut. 

a a? *a 7 s9? % 

„a a D a° °« 

a a q 4 6 7 

a a y 9 8 

'a Question Answer a 1 Question Answer 9 

The voice should run up through the compass of at 
least an octave, with inflections as in speech. Let the 
upward movement be a question, and speak the down- 
ward series as if in answer to it. Breathe between the 
question and the answer. Practise later with similar 
groups in circumflexes. (See Lesson XXII.). Use all 
the vowels as well as groups of words. Enlarge the 
gamut as you gain in compass. 



LESSON XVII. 



Rules for Emphasis.— Continued. 



IV. — Emphasis falls on the accented syllable 01 
the word, except where the new idea is contained in 
an unaccented syllable. 



This should be wwaccented. 

V. — The fewer emphases you can give and still 
leave the meaning clear, the better. 

Emphasis upon unimportant words tends to confuse 
the hearer. Lead directly up to the key-word of the 
phrase, and let whatever follows take its own course. 
Do not say, for instance, in the example quoted be- 
low, " I would never lay down my aems," which would 
imply that you might do a great many other things 
equally as bad, possibly lay down your head ; the 
thought is "never." 

never 

lay 
would down 

I my 

arms. 



fR. I. 



RULES FOR EMPHASIS. 

EXAMPLES. 

Keview Lessons III., VII., XIII., XY. 

The old mayor I climbed the belfry tower \\ ^ 
The ringers I ran by two, | by three ; III 
Pull || if ye never pulled before \\ 
Good ringers, | pull your best, | quoth he. || R. II. 
Play uppe, | play uppe, I O Boston bells || R. II. Exception. 

Ply all your changes || all your swells, || R. III. 

Play uppe " The Brides o/Enderby." R. III. Note. 

— Jean Ingelow. 

Analyze also for inflection. Would the old mayors 

appeal be major or minor, and why ? 

The kettle began it ! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle said. 
I know better. (1) Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record to tin 
end of time that she couldn't say which of them began it ; but I sa) 
the kettle did. (2) I ought to know, I hope ! The kettle begat 
it, full five minutes by the little waxj'-faced Dutch clock in thr 
corner, before the cricket uttered a chirp. (3) "Why, I am no,* 
naturally positive. Every one knows that I wouldn't set my ow-ir 
opinion against the opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, unless I were qu,te 
sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should induce me. Il»?t 
this is a question of fact. And the fact is (4) that the kettle bbfKzi 
it at least five minutes before the cricket gave anj r sign of bein£-in- 
existence. (5) Contradict me, and I'll say ten.— Dickens. 

This is an example of colloquial speech, every--:' ay 
conversation. Jt is animated, but not nearly so fo :ci- 
ble as the preceding selection, which requires, la ?re 
and there, very powerful emphasis. The style of 
delivery should be light and tripping, with much 
self-assertion. We are continually making contrasts 
between Mrs. Peerybingle and the writer or speali er, 
and between the kettle and the cricket. Bring out 
these contrasts with great earnestness. 



64 SEVENTEENTH LESSON 

(1) Would you say " I know better" or " I know 
better" ? Why ? (See Eule Y.) 

(2) " I say the kettle did." (See Eule II.) Why? 

(3) Point out the most emphatic word in this sen- 
tence, and tell why. 

(4) " And the fact is" or " and the fact is" ? 

(5) Two words are especially emphatic here ; which 
are they, and which of the two is the more emphatic, 
that is, the more important ? 

Which is the most emphatic word in the entire 
selection, and why? 

You cannot, my lords, }'ou cannot (1) conquer America. What 
is your present situation there? (2) We do not know the worst, 
but we know that in three campaigns we have done nothing and 
suffered much. You may swell every expense, accumulate every 
assistance, and extend your traffic to the shambles of every German 
despot. Your attempts will be forever vain and impotent, doubly 
so, indeed, from this mercenary aid on which you rely ; for it irri- 
tates to an incurable resentment the minds of your adversaries to 
overrun them with the mercenary sons of rapine and plunder, 
devoting them and their possessions to the rapacity of hireling- 
cruelty. If I were an American, as I am an Englishman, while a 
foreign troop was landed in my country I would never lay down 
my arms — never, never, never ! — Lord Chatham. 

(1) This is the preferred emphasis. It brings out 
more strongly the feeling that conquest is impossible 
than repetition of the word with its ordinary accent 
could do. (See Eule IY.) 

(2) "Present" or "situation"*} why not "there"'} 
Make this a study in pause as well, both for the sep- 
aration of ideas and for emphasis. 



RULES FOR EMPHASIS. 65 



EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

O green was the corn as I rode on my way, 
And bright were the dews on the blossoms of May, 
And dark was the sycamore's shade to behold, 
And the oak's tender leaf was of emerald and gold. 

The thrush from his holly, the lnrk from his cloud, 
Their chorus of rapture sang jovial and loud: 
From the soft vernal sky to the soft grassy ground, 
There was beauty above me, beneath, and around. — Heber. 

Paul Revere was a rider bold- 
Well have his valorous deeds been told ; 
Sheridan's ride was a glorious one — 
Often has it been dwelt upon ; 
But why should men do all the deeds 
On which the love of a patriot feeds ? — Will Carleton. 

If when I meet my brother man 

Adrift on life's uncertain sea, 
To him I give whate'er I can, 

The honor's not to me. 

For God to me has freely given 

From out His bounteous store, 
So give I of the all I have, 

And only wish 'twere more. 

And as I leave, with tearful eyes, 
My brother who to me was sent, 

I feel that God has, in disguise, 
Another blessing to me lent. 

What is genius ? Is it worth anything ? Is splendid folly the 
measure of its inspiration ? Is wisdom its base or summit — that 
which it recedes from or tends towards ? And by what definition 
do you award the name to the creator of an epic and deny it to 
the creator of a country ? On what principle is it to be lavished 



66 SEVENTEENTH LESSON. 

on him who sculptures in perishing marble the image of possible 
excellence, and withheld from him who built up in himself a 
transcendent character, indestructible as the. obligations of Duty, 
and beautiful as her rewards ? — E. P. Whipple. 

Whither, 'midst falling dew, 
While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
Far, through their rosy depths, dost thou pursue 
Thy solitary way ? 

Vainly the fowler's eye 
Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 

Thy figure floats along. 

— Bryant, "To a Waterfowl. " 

Soars thy presumption, then, so high, 
Because a wretched kern ye slew, 
Homage to name to Eoderick Dhu ? 
He yields not, he to man nor Fate ! 
Thou add'st but fury to my hate ; 
My clansman's blood demands revenge. 
Not yet prepared ? By heaven, I change 
My thought, and hold thy valor light 
As that of some vain carpet-knight 
Who ill deserves my courteous care, 
And whose best boast is but to wear 
A braid of his fair lady's hair. — Scott. 



LESSON XVIII. 



Flexibility. — Continued. 



EXEKCISE V. 

The Arms. 

Eaise the arms straight above the head, with the 
palms up. Now relax them so that they fall of their 
own weight. If the arms are perfectly flexible and 
are not interfered with in any way, they will swing to 
and fro, pendulum-like, and come to rest gradually. 
Practise this until perfect flexibility is gained, but do 
not assist the movement by swinging the arms ; they 
must be perfectly passive. If the clothing or the 
hips interfere with the arms, practise with one arm at 
a time, leaning the body over at the side sufficiently 
to give free play to the arm. 

Exekcise YI. 
The Arms. 

Standing in the Position of Respect, but with the 
feet a few inches apart to give greater firmness, turn 
the body on the ankles as far as possible from one 



68 EIGHTEENTH LESSON. 

side to the other, keeping a perfectly upright posi- 
tion. This movement will throw the arms across the 
body and back. Practise slowly until you can keep 
the correct position of the body ; then increase the 
rapidity until the arms are flung about with consider- 
able violence. Keep the shoulders relaxed. 

The Vowels. — Continued. 

10. E or % before r as in verge, firm, girl, cleric; 
also heard in earn, gu&rdon. 

It is very difficult to describe this sound. The best 
that can be said is that it is not so heavy as the fol- 
lowing sound (u in urge), yet is nearer to it than to 
the 9th sound (ah). We generally hear uncultivated 
speakers pronounce clerk, for instance, clnrk, while 
many give it the old-fashioned, quaint pronunciation 
of dark, which prevails in England. E is about mid- 
way between these extremes. Do not say gyurl nor 
gurl, but girl. 

11. U in up (short), or u in urn (long quantity of the 
same sound), urge ; also heard in world, blood, dungeon. 

12. in doll, not, often; also in knbivledge. Do not 
say auften for often, daivg for dog, Gaud for God. 



LESSON XIX. 



Breathing- Exercises. —Continued. 



Review Lesson IV. 

Exeecise IY. 

(1) Place the hands on the upper part of the chest 
in front ; (2) slowly inhale until the chest is expanded 
fully ; (3) exhale the breath slowly, pressing in and 
down upon the chest with the hands as if to squeeze 
out the air. Do this slowly and very gently at first. 
(4) Inhale as if trying to press out the hands by means 
of the breath. Keep the shoulders very quiet. 

Repeat the exercise several times. 

Exercise V. 
Place the hands at the sides under the armpits ; 
breathe in the same way as in Exercise IV. 

Exercise VI. 

Place one hand in front and the other at the back ; 
expand, etc., as before. 

When pupils have the bad habit of lifting the shoul- 
ders in breathing, thev should practise 

69 



70 NINETEENTH LESSON. 

Exercise VII. 

Seated in a chair, grasp the rounds at the sides in 
such a way that the arm is stretched fully and it is not 
possible for the shoulders to rise. In this position, take 
slow, full breaths, increasing the rapidity until it is pos- 
sible to take a very short, quick breath without moving 
the shoulders. 

To the Teacher:— Breathing exercises are sometimes very ex- 
hausting to delicate pupils. Exercise the greatest caution 
with them, and remember that speedy and remarkable devel- 
opment is too often gained at the expense of vitality. The 
slowest growth is most permanent. 

Ttie Vowels. — Continued. 

13. A in all call; also heard in taught, broad, 
thought. 

A curious blunder on the part of many speakers is to 
say ' ' sawr ' ' for saw, ' ' mawr ' ' for maw, while at the 
same time they are often careful to say ' ' maw ' ' for 
more. Make a careful distinction between words like 
carves and calves without overdoing the r sound ; also 
in orphan and often, coughing and coffin. 

14. O before r in or, nor; also in sewer, mower, 
oar, door, four. This sound of o is not the sound of df 
it is nearer to long o. 

The following examples may be used, at the discre- 
tion of the teacher, as studies in emotional breathing. 
Notice that the centre of activity varies with each exam- 
ple, as does also the texture of the body. 



BREATHING EXERCISES. 71 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE IN BREATHING. 

Down with the tyrants of England ! we never have sworn them 

allegiance ! 
Death to these foreign soldiers, who seize on our homes and our 

harvests. — Longfelloiv. 

Lift up your heads, O ye gates ; and be ye lifted up, ye ever- 
lasting doors ; and the King of Glory shall come in. 

Who is this King of Glory ? The Lord strong and mighty, the 
Lord mighty in battle. — Bible. 

By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a-weary of this great world. 

— Shakespeare. 

Ha, ha, ha, ha, ho, ho, ho, ho, he, he, he, he, he I 

Alas ! Ah me ! 

Old Simon doth chuckle and crow, ' ' Ho, ho, 
What, marry old Margery ? No, no, no ! " 

— Old Song. 

Ay, de mi ! Like echoes falling, 

Sweet, and sad, and low, 
Voices come at night, recalling 

Years and years ago.— Waller. 

It was the butcher's daughter, then, 

So slender and so fair, 
That sobbed as if her heart would break, 

And tore her yellow hair ; 
And thus she spoke in thrilling tone, 

Fast fell the tear-drops big : 
"Ah, woe is me! Alas! alas! 

The pig ! the pig ! the pig ! "—Holmes. 



n NINETEENTH LESSON 

"Yo ho, my boys!" said Fezziwig, " no more work to-night. 
Christmas Eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the 
shutters up before a man can say Jack Robinson. Clear away, 
my lads, and let's have lots of room here ! " — Dickens. 

1 ' Will they do it ? " " Dare they do it ? " 

' ' Who is speaking ? " " What's the news ? " 
• ' What of Adams ? " " What of Sherman ? " 

" O God, grant they won't refuse ! " 
' ' Make some way, there ! " " Let me nearer ! " 

' ' I am stifling ! " " Stifle, then : 
When a nation's life's at hazard 

We've no time to think of men ! " 

— " The Independence Bell." 

I am the God Thor, I am the War God, 

I am the Thunderer ! Here in my Northland, 

My fastness and fortress, reign I forever. 

Jove is my brother; mine eyes are the lightning; 
The wheels of my chariot roll in the thunder, 
The blows of my hammer ring in the earthquake ! 

— Longfellow. 

Thick-sprinkled bunting ! flag of stars ! 
Long yet your road, fateful flag— long yet your road, and lined 

with bloody death ; 
For the prize I see at issue at last is the world. 
All its ships and shores I see interwoven with your threads, 

greedy banner ; 
Dream'd again the flags of kings, highest borne, to flaunt un- 

rivall'd ? 
O hasten, flag of man ! — O with sure and steady step, passing 

highest flags of Mugs, 
Walk supreme to the heavens, mighty symbol— run up above 

them all, 
Flag of stars! thick-sprinkled bunting! — Walt Whitman. 



LESSON XX. 



The Language of the Body. 



PANTOMIMIC EXPRESSION. 

The body, as well as the voice, is a means of ex- 
pression ; and its language, which we call pantomime, 
is even more effective than speech. " Actions speak 
louder than words," says the proverb. You cannot 
say " I love you," and persuade anybody that you 
mean it, if } T our face wears an ugly scowl or your fist 
threatens mischief. The body is the outward mani- 
festation of the soul within and faithfully indicates 
every emotion, however slight. Nor do these mani- 
festations entirely disappear with the emotion that 
causes them. Every disagreeable or evil p ass km 
is registered upon the organism, until the frequent 
scowl or sneer becomes a permanent disfigurement of 
the face, or the slouchy, careless carriage of the body 
becomes a habit and, finally, a bearing, which is a true 
index of the lazy or careless spirit within. On the 
other hand, a happy disposition or a truly brave spirit 
shows itself in the open countenance or manly bear- 
ing. 

The attitude or action of the body has a marked 



74 TWENTIETH LESSON. 

effect upon the voice. If you sing the syllable ah with 
an open, relaxed face and easy position and then with 
a frown and the fists clinched, you will notice a de- 
cided difference in the quality of the tone. Not only 
does the mind help to form the body, but pantomimic 
expression affects the mind or soul. If you remain 
for a little time in an attitude expressive of deep de- 
jection, you will feel, in a greater or less degree, a cor- 
responding mental condition ; while a buoyant, strong 
attitude will often act as a tonic to mind as well as 
to body. 

The speaker should have at his command a wide 
range of attitudes and actions and a thorough knowl- 
edge of the meanirig of what he does, as well as of 
what he says. Every action of the body has a defi- 
nite meaning, and when we are not embarrassed we 
express ourselves naturally by means of these actions ; 
but on coming before an audience, or even when re- 
hearsing in private, we become self-conscious and con- 
strained. The practice of exercises in pantomimic ex- 
pression, however, enables us to feel that sense of re- 
pose and freedom that always comes with knowledge 
of our resources and perfect command of them. 

"We cannot take up in this little book all the actions 
and attitudes, but will endeavor to select those most 
useful for our present needs. 

"We will consider the body, for convenience, in four 
divisions : The trunk or torso, as artists call it, the 
head, the legs, and the arms. 



THE LANGUAGE OF THE BODY. 75 

The torso is the centre from which all gestures or 
actions proceed. It must maintain the dignity of the 
body, and does not condescend to great variety of ac- 
tion. 

The chest, which is its upper part, sympathizes with 
the condition of the mind to a great extent, however, 
expanding with strong conditions and noble emotions, 
and contracting or becoming passive in weak or ig- 
noble conditions. 

The shoulders rise more or less under the influence 
of emotion, according to the degree of its strength. 
In joy, for instance, the shoulders are elevated consid- 
erably, while in great fear or terror they rise to an ex- 
treme height and come forward as if to shield the head, 
which, at the same time, is drawn down between them. 
In despair or sorrow, the shoulders, like the chest, 
relax. In defiance or anger, they are drawn back, 
while the chest expands as if to resist a blow. The 
shrug of the shoulders, if made slowly, indicates resig- 
nation — " Still have I borne it with a patient shrug," 
says old Shylock. "When made quickly it carries the 
opposite meaning, impatience or contempt. Avoid 
shrugging the shoulders, except when the expression 
absolutely requires it. Among refined people the 
shrug is considered vulgar and often impertinent. 

The hips pushed out in front express pomposity, 
vulgar pride, or self-assertion ; drawn back they indi- 
cate timidity, deference, humility. The proper and 
normal attitude of the hips is just midway between 
these extremes. 



LESSON XXL 



The Torso. 



EXAMPLES. 

Chest and Shoulders. 

I tell thee, thou'rl defied ! 

And dar'st thou, then, to beard the lion in his den, 
The Douglas in his hall ? — Scott. 

Thou, too, sail on, O ship of state! 

Sail on, O Union, strong and great! — Longfellow. 

Half choked with rage, King Robert fiercely said : 

" Open; 'tis I, the king! Art thou afraid?" 

The frightened sexton, muttering with a curse, 

' ' This is some drunken vagabond, or worse!" 

Turned the great key and flung the portal wide. — Longfellow. 

The second and fourth lines of this last selection are 
examples of what we call impersonation ; that is, speak- 
ing or acting not in our own buc in another's character. 
Here you impersonate King Kobert and afterward the 
sexton. Where, as in this example, description of an 
action or condition is followed by its representation, 

76 



THE TORSO. 77 

as in lines 1, 2, 3, and 4, we save our action for the 
portion where we impersonate. When the lines are 
descriptive only, however, we accompany the descrip- 
tion with the appropriate action, as in line 5, where it 
is very effective to imitate, or rather suggest, the turn- 
ing of the huge key and the opening of the heavy door, 
while we describe those actions. 

He stops — will he fall ? Lo ! for answer, a gleam like a meteor's 
track, 

And, hurled on the stones of the pavement, the red brand lies shat- 
tered and black. — Slansbury. 

The very deep did rot : O Christ! 

That ever this should be ! 
fea, slimy things did crawl with legs 

Upon the slimy sen. — Coleridge. 

How do you do, Cornelia ? I heard you were sick, and I stopped 
in to cheer you up a little. My friends often say: "It's such a com- 
fort to see you, Aunty Doleful. You have such a flow of conversa- 
tion, and are so lively." Besides, I said to myself, as I came up the 
stairs: " Perhaps it's the last time I'll ever see Cornelia Jane 
alive." — Dallas. 

Nephew. A merry Christmas, uncle I God save you ! 
Scrooge. Bah ! humbug ! — Dickens. 

The Hips. 

I rise — I rise — with unaffected fear, 
(Louder I speak louder ! who the deuce can hear?) 
I rise — I said — with undisguised dismay ; 
Such are my feelings as I rise, I say ! — Holmes. 



78 TWENTY-FIRST LESSON. 

Falstaff. I have pepper 'd two of them; two I am sure I have 
paid, two rogues in buckram suits. Thou knowest my old ward; 
here I lay, and thus [taking attitude of fencer] I bore my point. 



Falstaff. Was it for me to kill the heir-apparent; should I turn 
upon the true prince ? Why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Her- 
cules But beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince, 
Instinct is a great matter; I was a coward on instinct. I shall 
think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant 
lion, and thou for a true prince. — Shakespeare. 

We are very 'umble here, Mister Copperfield. — Dickens. 

Work out the proper attitudes for these examples 
by referring to the suggestions in Lesson XX. Of 
course, there are many actions of the head, feet, and 
arms that would be necessary to their full expression. 
These, however, we must leave for the future. 

Attitudes in many cases become habits, and are 
then called bearings. For instance, a pompous indi- 
vidual would carry the hips forward ; while a timid or 
very deferential person would draw the hips back. 
Aunty Doleful carries he* body in quite a different 
manner from Marmion or Douglas, even when moved 
by no particular emotion, because the doleful condi- 
tion of mind has become a habit and is reflected in 
the outward appearance. We have three sorts of pan- 
tomimic expression: 

Actions or gestures, which are momentary. 

Attitudes or positions, which last for a longer or 
shorter time, but disappear when the emotion 
changes. 



INFLECTIONS. 79 

Bearings, which are permanent habits of carrying 
the body or the limbs, and indicate peculiarities of 
disposition or mind. 



LESSON XXII. 



Inflections . — Continued. 



Beside the simple rising and falling inflections we 
have various combinations of rising and falling which 
are called circumflex inflections. Circumflex inflec- 
tions are always used when we wish to say something 
that the words themselves do not express. We often 
say, " oh, yes" or " oh, no" when it is clear that we 
mean just the opposite, and this meaning is conveyed 
to the listener by a circumflex inflection. Here follow 
a number of examples for practice. Try to put into 
each the meaning that is indicated. Suppose in re- 
ply to a question like " will you do it ?" the answer 
"of course" is given, it may have many meanings, as 
will be seen. 

EXAMPLES. 

"Of course," with simple falling inflection, meaning exactly what 
it says, "I will." 

"Of course," with surprise, giving " course" with much higher 
pitch and a slight circumflex turn, meaning " how could you suppose 
I would do anything else ?" 



SO TWENTY-SECOND LESSON. 

"Of course, " with contempt, "why do you ask such a foolish 
question ?" 

"Of course," with a sigh, " I suppose I must " 

"Of course," with sarcasm (double circumflex), meaning " that is 
about the last thing I would do." 

The question may be asked in many ways also, e.g., with reproach, 
"will you'* (of whom I thought better things); with contempt, 
"you are a likely person to undertake it;" with joy, surprise, etc. 

"Ah !" Calling some one at a distance. 

"Ah!" Minor, " come help me." 

"Ah?" Surprise, with rising inflection, "is it really so?" For 
information. 

" Ah !" Surprise, with falling inflection, "is it possible I" "well 
you do astonish me!" 

" Ah I" Playfully, " now I've caught you;" " I see through you." 

" Ah!" Playfully, but with rising inflection, " did you think you 
could catch me ?" 

" Oh !" Distress, pain. 

" Oh !" Meaning, " that relieves my mind:" " that satisfies me;" 
" that alters the question." 

"Oh!" "For shame!" 

''Yes." Simple assertion, falling inflection. 

"Yes." Indifferently, "I don't care particularly about it, but if 
you wish it I will." 

"Yes." " I suppose I must." 

"Yes." Joyfully, "I am glad to;" "of course I will, with 
pleasure," 

None dared withstand him to his face, 

But one sly maiden spoke aside: 

"The little witch is evil-eyed ! 

Her mother only killed a cow, 

Or witched a churn or dairy pan; 

But she, forsooth, must charm a man." — Whittier. 

Oh, then, I see Queen Mah hath been with you. — Shakespeare. 



THE VOWELS. 81 

Circumflex inflections are either rising or falling, 
that is, conclude with a rising or a falling inflection. 

The rising inflections start from a high pitch, move 
downward and conclude with an upward turn. 

The falling inflections start from below, move up- 
ward and conclude with a downward turn. 

EXAMPLES. 

. ah. Ah •ah? 

Ah y \h\ W 

Practise these sounds with slight separation at first 
and then connect them with precisely the same 
melody. 

We have also the double circumflex, used in sar- 
casm, irony, and the like. 

Hath a d5g money ? Is it possible 

A cur can lend three thousand ducats? — Shakespeare. 

The rising or falling circumflex inflections are gov- 
erned bythe same laws as the simple inflections ; that 
is, the rising slides inquire, express deference to the 
will of the listener, even if it be mock deference, indif- 
ference, indecision, doubt, or timidity ; the falling cir- 
cumflexes are positive, decided, complete. 

The Vowels. — Continued. 

15. in old, beau, throe. 

16. U in pull, full: also heard in icolf,foot. 

17. 00 in pool; also in rude, rule, shoe, you, cruise. 



82 TWENTY-SECOND LESSON 

From 12 on, we notice a gradual protrusion of the 

lips, until in 17 we reach the last of our vowel-sounds, 

where the lips are pursed together to a considerable 

extent. Try to get these sounds with as little lip-action 

as possible. _ 

To the Teacher : — I have indicated in this lesson an interesting 
and valuable exercise. Let the pupils practise on simple 
exclamations and calls like " oh ! " "oh, dear ! " " come here ! " 
"John!" "ah!" etc. Have them also try to discover the 
elliptical meaning of impromptu exclamations by the teacher. 
Many excellent examples may be found in Bell's "Principles 
of Elocution. " I do not, however, advise the use of marks to 
indicate the direction of the inflection, except occasionally by 
way of analogy, for the reason that they tend at first to con- 
fuse the student, and afterward to cause him to rely over- 
much upon the external, mechanical form of the slide, rather 
than upon the inner, mental condition that should prompt it. 
In other words, his reading is apt to be more mechanical 
than if he discarded all mechanical aids and relied solely upon 
his art instinct. Again, it is impossible to indicate the more 
minute shades of inflection that belong to truly natural ex- 
pression ; so that, after all, any notation falls short of abso- 
lute fidelity to nature. Since it is almost impossible to indicate 
to the eye, even approximately, the nicer shades of meaning, 
and since, also, the average inexperienced pupil makes a very 
poor connection in his mind between a mark on the black- 
board and a sound in his ear, and therefore is quite as likely 
to be misled as helped by such marks, it is better to rely 
upon the ear and the intelligence altogether. The meaning 
of an ordinary inflection is patent to any intelligent child, 
and when once the meaning of an inflection is understood, it 
is usually conveyed with perfect accuracy. See that pupils 
do not cramp the throat. Use these inflections for vocal 
practice ; nothing can be better for flexibility of the speaking- 
voice. Make all exercises in inflection mental. A word of 
warning should be given regarding a very common error in 
teaching vowel-production, and an error, too, which has the 
sanction of high authority, yet which, nevertheless, should 
be carefully avoided by the progressive teacher. I refer to 
the exaggerated mouthing of the vowels. Doubtless the 
majority of teachers who read this are familiar with dia- 
grams in which ah, e, and oo seem intended as examples of 
facial distortion, rather than as exercises in intonation. Not 
only are these gapings, grinnings and poutings useless for the 
purposes for which they are given, but the faithful student 



THE VOWELS. 83 

who practises them persistently will find, perhaps too late, 
that they tend to render all facial expression absolutely ab- 
normal. My own experience as teacher and pupil long ago 
led me to discard this and similar exaggerations of normal 
actions, not only in articulation, but in expression every- 
where. 

EXAMPLES FOE PEACTICE. 

The Cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man and 
never fails to see a bad one. If Mr. A is pronounced a religious 
man, he will reply: Yes— on Sundays. Mr. B has just joined 
the church: Certainly; the elections are coming on. Such a 
man is generous — of other men's money. This man is obliging — 
to lull suspicion and cheat you. That man is upright — because 
he is green. — Beecher. 

Brutus. What, shall one of us, 

That struck the foremost man of all this world 
But for supporting robbers, shall we now 
Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, 
And sell the mighty space of our large honors 
For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? 
I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, 
Than such a Roman. — Shakespeare. 

Down stept Lord Ronald from his tower : 
"O Lady Clare, you shame your worth! 

Why come you drest like a village maid, 
That are the flower of the earth ? " — Tennyson. 

Can honor set a leg ? No. Or an arm ? No. Or take away 
the grief of a wound ? No. Honor hath no skill in surgery, 
then? No. What is honor? A word. What is that word, 
honor? Air. Who hath it? He that died on Wednesday? 
Doth Ue feel it ? No. Doth he hear it ? No. Is it insensible, 
theix * Yes, to the dead. But will it not live with the living ? 
No. Why ? Detraction will not suffer it. — Shakespeare. 

"Ain't goin' to see the celebration ? " 
Says Brother Nate. " No ; botheration ! 
I've got sich a cold— a toothache — I — 
My gracious!— feel's though I should fly I " 

— Trowbridge. 



84 TWENTY-SECOND LESSON. 

If to do were as easy as to know what were good to do, chapels 
had been churches, and poor men's cottages princes' palaces. It 
is a good divine that follows his own instructions. I can easier 
teach twenty what were good to be done than to be one of the 
twenty to follow mine own teaching. The brain may devise 
laws for the blood ; but a hot temper leaps over a cold decree. 

— Shakespeare. 

Marullus. You, sir : what trade are you ? 

2d Citizen. Truly, sir, in respect of a fine workman, I am but, 
as you would say, a cobbler. 

Mar. But what trade art thou ? Answer me directly. 

2d Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe con- 
science; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. 

Mar. What trade, thou knave ? thou naughty knave, what 
trade ? 

2d Cit. Nay, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me : yet, if 
you be out, sir, I can mend you. 

Mar. What meanst thou by that ? Mend me, thou saucy 
feUow? 

2d Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. 

Flavtus. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ? 

2d Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is with the awl. 

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? Why dost 
thou lead these men about the streets ? 

2d Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into 
more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday, to see Caesar, 
and to rejoice in his triumph. — Shakespeare. 

Is there, for honest poverty, 
That hangs his head, and a' that ? 

The coward-slave, we pass him by, 
We dare be poor for a' that. 

Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, 
Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; 

Tho' hundreds worship at his word, 
He's but a coof for a' that. — Burns. 



LESSON XXIII. 



The Legs. 



The legs are, as we know, the agents by which we 
advance or retreat from objects about us, and their 
attitudes indicate our relations with surrounding per- 
sons or things. 

We know that usually the body should rest upon 
one foot ; sometimes, however, the weight is equally 
upon both feet. We will consider both conditions. 

Weight on One Foot. 

We go towards objects that attract us or that we 
wish to influence ; we draw back from things that 
displease or repel us. Hence, sympathy, attraction, 
animation, joy, and all expansive feelings, menace, 
attack, and pursuit, call for attitudes in which the 
weight is upon the advanced foot, that is, upon the 
foot that is supposed to be nearest the object of the 
action. 

Antipathy, repulsion, melancholy, in difference, re- 
flection, concentration, defence, defiance, etc., require 
the opposite attitude, where the weight is upon the 

So 



86 TWENTY-THIRD LESSON. 

retired foot, that farthest from the object exciting the 
emotion. 

When the body has a position suitable to the exer- 
cise of great effort, as, for instance, with the feet 
firmly braced to resist a blow, it is said to be in a 
strong position. When the body does not offer great 
resistance, as when the feet are near together, or 
when the weight is entirely on one foot with the free 
leg weak, as in the Speaker's Position, the attitude is 
said to be weak. 

Laws of Attitude, 

I.— Conscious strength assumes weak positions; 
conscious weakness assumes strong positions. 

When the feet are wide apart, the body is said to 
have a strong or broad base, when the feet are near 
together, a weak base. 

II. — In proportion to the degree of energy will be 
the strength of the base. 

ILLUSTRATIONS. 

Law I. — A speaker coming before an audience in a 
timid frame of mind would naturally try to hide his 
condition ; and, in so doing, would stand in a very 
strong attitude, as much as to say : " I am not 
afraid ;" while one accustomed to public appearance, 
and fully confident of his control over his body, would 
assume the most easy and graceful position at his 
command. A blustering bully would plant his legs 
wide apart, and, in other ways which we have marked 



THE LEGS. 

out elsewhere, indicate to an experienced observer 
that he was assuming a bravery that he really did not 
possess ; while his antagonist, if cool and collected, 
would stand in an attitude of comparative weakness, 
with weight resting lightly on one foot. 

Law II. — The attitude of respect is unemotional ; 
but if you were in that attitude, and suddenly saw 
something that interested you, you would advance, 
and, if very much excited, might fairly spring toward 
it. So your attitude when standing still would ex- 
press strong excitement, just in proportion to its sim- 
ilarity to the same expression of the legs and feet 
when in motion. 

Weight on Both Feet. 

With the feet as in walking, expresses suspense, un- 
certainty, as if you did not know whether to advance 
or retreat. With the feet wide apart sideways, ex- 
presses vulgar ease, familiarity, pomposity, arrogance. 
With the feet near together, expresses timidity, re- 
spect, subordination, weakness. 

Sitting. 

Under like conditions, the attitudes of the feet when 
sitting are the same as in standing. For instance, in 
animated attention the feet would be well apart, one 
foot being under the chair, perhaps, as if you were 
about to spring from your seat, which is just what 
you would do if your excitement became very great. 



88 TWENTY-THIRD LESSON. 

EXAMPLES FOR, PRACTICE IN ATTITUDE. 

It does not matter how little or how much any of us have read 
either of Homer or Shakespeare; everything round us, in sub- 
stance or in thought, has been moulded by them. All Greek 
gentlemen were educated under Homer; all Roman gentlemen 
by Greek literature; all Italian and French and English gentle- 
men by Roman literature and by its principles. Of the scope of 
Shakespeare, I will say only that the intellectual measure of 
every man since born in the domains of creative thought may be 
assigned to him according to the degree in which he has been 
taught by Shakespeare.— Ruskin. 

So boldly he entered the Netherby hail, 

'Mong bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all : 

Then spoke the bride's father, his hand on his sword 

(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), 

" O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, 

Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar V— Scott. 

' ' Ye call me chief, and ye do well to call him chief who, for 
twelve long years, has met upon the arena every shape of man 
or beast that the broad Empire of Rome could furnish, and yet 
never has lowered his arm. And if there be one among you who 
can say that, ever, m public fight or private brawl, my actions 
did belie my tongue, let him step forth and say it. If there be 
three in all your throng dare face me on the bloody sand, let 
them step forth ! "—Kellogg. 

It is an ancient mariner, 

And he stoppeth one of three : 
" By thy long grey beard and glittering eye, 

Now, wherefore stop'st thou me ? " 

He holds him with his skinny hand : 

"There was a ship," quoth he. 
" Hands off, unhand me, greybeard loon! " 

Eftsoons his hand drops he. — Coleridge. 



THE LEGS. 89 

Now glory to the Lord of hosts, from whom all glories are, 
And glory to our sovereign liege, King Henry of Navarre ! 

A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears at rest, 
A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white 
crest. — Macazday. 

He drew the covering closer on his lip, 

Crying "Unclean! unclean! " and in the folds 

Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face, 

He fell upon the earth till they should pass. — Willis. 

" Ho ! why dost thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray ? 
And why does thy nose look so blue ? " — 
" Tis the weather that's cold, 
Tis I'm grown very old, 
And my doublet is not very new. Well-a-day ! " 

— Old Song. 

In there came old Alice, the nurse, 
Said, " Who was this that went from thee ? " 

"It was my cousin," said Lady Clare; 
"To-morrow he weds with me." 

" Oh, God be thanked ! " said Alice, the nurse, 
"That all comes round so just and fair: 

Lord Eonald is heir of all your lands, 
" And you are not the Lady Clare." 

"Are ye out of your mind, my nurse, my nurse ?" 
Said Lady Clare, " that ye speak so wild ? " 

" As God's above, " said Alice, the nurse, 
" I speak the truth— you are my child" —Tennyson. 



LESSON XXIV. 



Articulation.— Continued. 



The Vowels. — Continued. 

We have now gone through the list of simple vowel- 
sounds ; — all other vowels are combinations of some of 
these. J is 9-1 blended, thus, ah-e ; ow in now is 9- 
17 ; oi in oil is 13-1; To is 1-17, except when it fol- 
lows r, when it has the sound 17 alone, as in rule, 
true. Careless speakers often say " floot " when they 
mean flute, " dooty " for duty, and so on. No one, 
however, says "poo" for peiv, nor " foo " for few, 
though there is equally good reason for such pronun- 
ciation. One of the marks of a well-educated person 
is his careful enunciation of this much-abused vowel u. 

When a voAvel occurs in an unaccented syllable, it 
is not pronounced with such care and exactness as 
when it receives the accent ; for instance, we say 
syl'-la-o'l, not syl'-la-bel. The vowels in the second 
and third syllables here are said to be obscure, because 
it is not always easy to determine which sound is 

90 



ARTICULATION. 91 

given. If our example were spelt " syllibul," it would 
make scarcely a perceptible difference in the sound of 
the word. These obscure sounds are generally indi- 
cated in dictionaries by a single dot under the vowel. 

The only rule for the pronunciation of obscure 
vowels is to make the sound as nearly like the full 
sound as is possible without seeming stilted. 

The articles, person d pronouns, conjunctions, and 
short prepositions like »/*, to, from, and for, are always 
obscure, except when tl ey are emphatic. Thus, w T hen 
we say, " give it to me,' we give the e in me its obscure 
sound (2d vowel), like i in pin; but when w r e say 
" give it to me," we give it its long sound (1st vowel). 
Nor do we say to (too), but almost tu (11th vowel). 
Treat such words, as regards pronunciation, exactly 
like the unaccented syllables in words. To be over 
exact and pedantic would often alter the meaning of 
the sentence, as in the illustration above. 

The Consonants. 

The consonants are formed by the action of the 
tongue, palate, and lips. The following consonants 
are made by compressing the lips and then separating 
them by a quick recoil and relaxation, b, p. Do not 
give the consonants their name-sounds in practising, 
thus : be, pe. 

Combine these and all following consonants with 
each of the seventeen vowel-sounds. 



92 TWENTY-FOURTH LESSON. 

To the Teacher : — Rhythmical exercises like the following will be 
found useful in attaining flexibility and accuracy in the use of 
the agents of articulation : 



In common time : Bd bd bd, bd bd bd, bd bd bd, bd. Repeat 
three times, sustaining the last bd a full beat, making a succes- 
sion of three triplets and a quarter note; the last time sustain 
the final bd as long as possible. 



In common time: Bd bd bd bd, bd bd bd bd. bd bd bd bd, bd, as 
if there were three groups of sixteenth notes, and a quarter 
note. Distinguish carefully between successions of bd and of 
db, pa and dp. Careless practice will result in something like 
db a bd bd bd bd, etc. This caution applies to many other com- 
binations. 



LESSON XXV. 



The Head. 



The head has gestures and attitudes. The gestures 
of the head are few but full of meaning. The com- 
mon ones are the nod, meaning yes ; the shake of the 
head, meaning no ; and a contemptuous fling of the 
head to one side, which latter, like a shrug of con- 
tempt, which it usually accompanies, is to be avoided, 
except when absolutely necessary to the expression. 

The attitudes or positions of the head are more 
numerous and important than are its gestures. We 
find nine fundamental positions of the head. 



THE HEAD. 




I.— The Head Erect. (Tig. 8.) 

This is the attitude of simple attention without 
sympathy. We find it in the attitude of 
Eespect (Lesson VI.). As a bearing or /^^ 
habit, it indicates strong vitality, con- 
sciousness of power. Be careful that the 
position of the body, either in sitting or 
standing, corresponds to that of the 
head, so far as your knowledge goes. 

II.— The Head Bowed. (Fig. 9.) 

This indicates one of two conditions : Either the 
mind is so occupied that the attention is drawn away 
from surrounding things ; or, we are submitting our- 
selves to some one or something more powerful than 
ourselves ; we say, for instance, " man must bow to 
the inevitable." 

This, then, is the ' expression of reflection, thought, 
mental concentration, or of respect and 
submission. As a bearing, the bowed 
head might indicate a thoughtful char- 
acter, or a very humble, abject person. 
What would be the difference in the 
bearing of the hips and chest ? 

The ordinary bow means that you 
place yourself at the service of the 
person you salute. You are, for the time, his " humble 
servant." The attitude of the body will vary with the 
condition you wish to represent. 




<)4 



TWENTY-FIFTH LESSON. 




HI.— The Head Lifted. (Fig. 10.) 

The head is lifted in joy, animation, 

*&& exultation, vehemence, expressions of 

pride, superiority, and the like, and, as 

a bearing, would indicate similar mental 

characteristics. 

IN.— The Head Pivoted. (Fig. 11.) 
The head pivoted or turned toward an 
object or person shows a feeling of at- 
traction ; turned from, that is, in an op- 
posite direction, the pivot indicates dis- 
like, repulsion, aversion. This is not a 
bearing ; people do not go about habit- 
ually with the head turned to one side. 




[Speaker's Position.] 
' he said, "J 

VI. 



EXAMPLES. 
The train from out the castle drew, 
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu. 
"Though something I might 'plain,' 
Of cold respect to stranger guest 
Sent hither by your king's behest, 
Part we in friendship from your land ) 

And'noble earl, receive my hand." II. [But with coldness.] 

—Scott. 
My liege, your anger can recall your trust, 
Annul my office, spoil me of my lands, 
Rifle my coffers; but my name, my deeds, 
Are royal in a land beyond your sceptre.— Bulwer Lytton. 

Tbis selection would be begun in the attitude of 
conscious power (I.), and gradually develop) into 



THE HEAD, 95 

(III.) that of conscious superiority, at the words 
" royal in a land beyond your sceptre." Of course, 
a conventional bow at the words " my liege " would 
be very appropriate. Also, the head might pivot (IV.) 
toward the imaginary " office," " lands," and " coffers;" 
but such movements would be very slight, and are not 
necessary. 

To be — or not to be — that is the question. II. 

— Shakespeare. 

Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are ! III. 

— Macaulay. 

Nephew. A merry Christmas, uncle ! God save you ! III. 
Scrooge. Bah ! humbug ! — Dickens. IV. 

Shall I bend low and, in a bondman's key, 

With 'bated breath and whispering humbleness, say this : 

" Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last ; 

You spurned me such a day ; another time 

You called me — dog ; and for these courtesies 

I'll lend you thus much monies?" — Shakespeare. 

Oh, where is the knight or the squire so bold, 

As to dive to the howling charybdis below? — Schiller. 

Here the head will pivot from side to side, as the 
king glances over the assembled courtiers, while his 
bearing may be either I. or III., more likely the lat- 
ter, as he is rather a haughty individual. This is an 
example of the combination of two attitudes. 

Remember that there are many degrees to all 
actions and attitudes, and that you must exercise suf- 
ficiently good taste to avoid overdoing on the one 
hand and tameness on the other. 



LESSON XXVI. 



Articulation.— Continued. 



With the lips closed we have one other sound, m, 
sometimes called a nasal consonant, because its sound 
escapes through the nostrils. It is in reality a hum- 
ming sound, and is one of the few consonants that 
may be sustained for an indefinite time. 

i^and v are formed by pressing the lower lip against 
the teeth. 

W, in wine, zuh, in ivhine, are formed by rounding 
the lips somewhat, as in the formation of the vowel 
do. Wh is really hiu; we say hwen, hwine, not iv-hen, 
w-hine. 

With the tongue in various positions we form the 
following consonants : 

T, d, by the recoil of the tip of the tongue from 
the upper teeth. 

L, n, by keeping the tip of the tongue in its position 
against the upper teeth, but more relaxed than in t 
and d. N is the nasal sound in this position. 

R is formed in two ways : With the tip of the 
tongue very much relaxed we get what is commonly 






VOCAL EXERCISES. 

called the trilled or rough r; with the tongue curving 
inward gently, but without any vibration of the tip, 
we have the smooth or glide r, in care, car, culture, etc. 
Be sure to give this smooth r its true value ; do not 
say cdh, call, cultcha. 

With the tip of the tongue between the teeth we get 
th, in thin, myth; th, soft, in this, with, beneath. 

Vocal Exercises.— Continued. 
Exercise IV. 

For Speaking Without Waste of Breath. 

With face and throat perfectly relaxed, take a firm, 
solid breath and call out suddenly and rather forcibly 
" ha !" As you make the sound, expand the waist 
slightly. Practise this, holding the flame of a candle 
near the mouth. If more breath is used than is 
necessary, the flame will flicker as you make the 
sound ; but when absolute control is gained, it will 
remain perfectly steady. Of course, the flame will be 
disturbed when the breath escapes after the exercise ; 
do not mind that. 

Use other vowel-sounds in the same way. 

Make a succession of sounds with one breath, as 
many as you can, and in various rhythms, 



98 TWENTY-SIXTH LESSON. 

EXAMPLES FOR VOCAL PRACTICE. 

Airy, fairy Lilian, 

Flitting, fairy Lilian, 
When I ask her if she love me, 
Claps her tiny hands above me, 

Laughing all she can ; 
She'll not tell me if she love me, 

Cruel little Lilian. — Tennyson. 

Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, 
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, 
Grave old plodders, gay young f riskers, 

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, 
Pointing tails and pricking whiskers, 

Families by tens and dozens, 
Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives, 
Followed the Piper for their lives. —Browning. 

Now clear, pure, hard, bright, and one by one, like to hailstones, 

Short words fall from his lips fast as the first of a shower, — 

Now in twofold column, Spondee, Iamb, and Trochee, 

Unbroke, firm-set, advance, retreat, trampling along, — 

Now with a sprightlier springiness, bounding in triplicate syllables. 

Dance the elastic Dactylics in musical cadences on ; 

Now, their voluminous coil intertangling like huge anacondas. 

Roll overwhelmingly onward the sesquipedalian words.— Stacy. 

Fight, gentlemen of England ! fight, bold yeomen ! 
Draw, archers, draw your arrows to the head : 
Spur your proud horses hard, and ride in blood; 
Amaze the welkin with your broken staves. 
A thousand hearts are great within my bosom. 
Advance our standards, set upon our foes ! 
Our ancient word of courage, fair Saint George, 
Inspire us with the spleen of fiery dragons ! 
Upon them ! Victory sits on our helms.— Shakespeare. 



VOCAL EXERCISES. 99 

In the following examples study the pantomimic as 
well as the vocal expression, giving especial attention to 
the attitudes of the head. (See Lessons XXY. and 
XXVII.) 

Girl ! nimble with thy feet, not with thy hands, 
Curl'd minion, dancer, coiner of sweet words ! 
Fight ! let me hear thy hateful voice no more ! 

— Matthew Arnold. 

Then Rustum raised his head ; his dreadful eyes 
Glared, and he shook on high his menacing spear 
And shouted : ' ' Rustum ! " — Matthew Arnold. 

I did hear him groan : 
Ay, and that tongue of his, that bade the Romans 
Mark him, and write his speeches in their books, 
Alas! it cried, "Give me some drink, Titinius! " 
As a sick girl. — Shakespeare. 

So you beg for a story, my darlings, 

My brown-eyed Leopold, 
And you, Alice, with face like morning, 

And curling locks of gold. 
Then come, if you will, and listen — 

Stand close beside my knee — 
To a tale of the Southern city, 

Proud Charleston by the sea. 

— M. A. P. Stansbury. 

Hail to thee, blithe spirit ! — bird thou never wert — 
That from heaven, or near it, pourest thy full heart 
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. 

—Shelley, " The Skylark:' 



LESSON XXVII. 



Attitudes of the Head.— Continued. 




Y.— TJie Head Inclined (Fig. 12) 
Indicates ease, trustfulness, familiarity, or indiffer- 
ence. When the head is inclined 
toward a person or object it indicates 
affectionate or trustful attention. 
When the head inclines in the oppo- 
site direction from the object at which 
the speaker is looking, it indicates 
distrust, or criticism. When the eye 
fig. 12. a l so i s turned away, the expression 

is of great indifference, inattention. 

As a bearing, the head may sway from side to side, 
in which case it indicates self-esteem, indifference to 
others, egotism, or merely an easy-going nature, ac- 
cording to the degree of the movement. The head 
inclined habitually to one side is indicative of a senti- 
mental nature, apt to be indiscriminately trustful. 
Very great inclination denotes a degree of mental 
weakness. Usually this attitude is an affectation. 

100 



ATTITUDES OF THE HEAD. 



101 



VI.— The Head Advanced (Fig. 13) 

indicates eagerness, curiosity, and sometimes threat- 
ening. This also may be a bearing. 

VII.— The Head Draivn Bach (Fig. 14) 

indicates surprise, suspicion, harsh moods of the mind, 
like hatred, fear, anger or disgust. As a bearing it 
denotes characteristics of a like unpleasant nature. 





VIII.— The Head Hing (Fig. 15) 

indicates shame, despair, or bodily weakness. The 
hang of the head differs from the bow in that all the 
muscles of the neck relax and the head drops lifelessly 
forward, while in the bow the neck yields but a very 
little at the most. As a bearing this would indicate 
weakness as of a very old man, an invalid, or an im- 
becile. 

IX.— The Head Thrown Back (Fig. 16) 

indicates prostration, agony either of mind or of body. 
We seldom have use for so extreme an attitude as this, 



102 



TWENTY-SEVENTH LESSON. 



but quite often make a similar movement to express 
disgust or Aveariness, throwing back the head as if 
seeking to rest it on an imaginary pillow or on the 
shoulder. 





EXAMPLES. 

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ; 
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor. 
O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb, 
That carries anger as the flint bears fire. V. 



Here is a beautiful example of the indifferent incli- 
nation and action of the head in the first two lines, 
changing to the affectionate bearing as the anger of 
Brutus gradually melts. 

Who is it leans from the belfry with face upturned to the sky, 
Clings to a column and measures the dizzy height with his eye ? VI. 

— Siansbury. 

How like a fawning publican he looks. V., VII. 

— Shakespeare. 

Here Shylock's expression is a mixture of suspicion 
and jealousy, and the attitude of the head should cor- 



ATTITUDES OF THE HEAD. 103 

respond. The head will not only incline away but be 
drawn back from Antonio, whose approach he is watch- 
ing. 

King Robert crossed both hands upon his breast 

And meekly answered him [VIII.] " Thou knowest best; 

My sins as scarlet are; let me go hence, 

And in some cloister's school of penitence, 

Across those stones that pave the way to heaven, 

Walk barefoot, till my guilty soul be shriven!" — Longfellow. 

Oh, I die, Horatio; 

The potent poison quite o'er-crows my spirit. IX. 

— Shakespeare. 

By my troth, Nerissa, my little body is a- weary of this great 
world. IX. — Shakespeare. 

In practising these attitudes, always try to feel the 
corresponding emotion. Take a sentence like " what 
shall I do," and give it with each attitude, expressing 
by your voice, as well, the different meanings that it 
would have. 

Thus, with I. the question would be simply for in- 
formation, or to express willingness to perform what 
might be required. 

With II. it should express submission (willing or 
unwilling) or great courtesy ; or it might be reflective 
in character, or indicate that you are greatly per- 
plexed. 

"With III. it might express joyous willingness, — 
" how can I best show my pleasure?" 

With IY. it would indicate a degree of uncertainty 
if you pivoted the head from side to side ; or a great 



104 TWENTY-EIGHTH LESSON. 

degree of attention if the head were quiet ; or you 
might express contempt by turning the head away, — 
" how shall I get rid of this fellow ?" 

With Y. indifference, or trustful affection might be 
shown in the voice. 

With VI. and VII. the meanings would be obvious. 

With VIII. it would express despair or shame. 

With IX. it would indicate either agony, or terrible 
mental suffering ; or, if given with but partial relaxa- 
tion, weariness or disgust. 

To the Teacher: — Be careful that the pupils do not mix the atti- 
tudes in practising, as, for instance, bowing and hanging, lifting 
and throwing back, pivoting and inclining. At the same time, 
do not forget that many of these attitudes may be legitimately 
combined. Space will not allow of indicating or exemplifying 
these here, but it Mill be found very useful to work out such 
combinations, with their appropriate definitions, as, for instance, 
inclining and bowing toward the object denotes trustful submis- 
sion, while the opposite inclination would indicate distrustful 
submission. 



LESSON XXVIII. 



Climax. 



"We have studied the relations of the words in a 
phrase. It remains now to show that the phrases in a 
sentence are related to one another, just as the words in 
a phrase are ; that sentences, again, combine in groups, 
of which one will be the most important ; that, again 



CLIMAX. 105 

these groups or paragraphs bear similar relations to 
one another. So we shall find, in every piece that we 
study, one paragraph that is the most important, one 
sentence in that paragraph that is the most important, 
one phrase in that sentence and one word in that phrase 
that is the most important of all. When we arrive at 
this word we have reached the climax of that partic- 
ular piece. 

"We speak of a word being emphatic, and of other 
words in the phrase as being subordinate to that 
word. Just as we have a series of emphatic words 
more or less subordinate to the principal emphatic 
word in a sentence, so we have subordinate climaxes 
in pieces of considerable length. 

ILLUSTRATIVE EXAMPLE. 

stones | 
blocks ! you than 

you senseless 

you ' ' things ! 

— Shakespeare. 

Here are three emphatic words in as many phrases. 
Each phrase starts a little higher than the preceding. 
Each emphatic word is further from the subordinate 
word that precedes it. "You worse than senseless 
things" is the clintax, and, of course, " blocks" and 
" stones" are emphases subordinate to " worse," as 
are their respective phrases to the last phrase. 

The well-known oration of Mark Antony is a splen- 
did illustration of a series of climaxes, culminating at 



iu6 TWENTY-EIGHTH LESSON, 

the very last line. Often the principal climax will be 
followed by subordinate passages, but a truly dra- 
matic outburst leaves the audience at the highest pitch 
of emotion. After a subordinate climax, there should 
be a period of comparatively quiet expression, gradu- 
ally culminating in another strongly emphatic pas- 
sage. 

Just as a painter gets his effects of light by putting 
surrounding objects more or less in shadow, so we in- 
tensify our climax by using moderation in the passa- 
ges that precede and follow it. In the above exam- 
ple, if all our force of emphasis were expended upon 
"you blocks," there would be nothing left to give 
added strength to what follows ; and if a passage of 
this kind were of any great length, the reader would 
be exhausted before reaching the end, and unable even 
to sustain what force he had already given, the result 
of which would be an anti-climax, which is usually 
either very painful to the listener or very ridiculous. 

"King Robert of Sicily," "Catiline's Defiance," 
" Mrs. Caudle's Curtain Lectures," " The Vagabonds," 
" Bay Billy," and similar selections, are good exam- 
ples of a succession of climaxes. 

The means for attaining this effect are various, de- 
pending upon the kind of emotio^i portrayed. Some- 
times the climax is attained simply by high pitch, 
sometimes by force, and again by sinking the voice 
and reducing its volume to a whisper. We will discuss 
some of these means in the following lessons. In the 



CLIMAX, 10? 

meantime, analyze some of the selections mentioned 
above, bearing in mind that the rules for emphasis given 
in previous lessons apply exactly as well to phrases, sen- 
tences and paragraphs as to words. 

Pibroch of Donuil Dim, Pibroch of Donuil, 
Wake thy wild voice anew, summon Clan Conuil. 
Come away, come away, hark to the summons ! 
Come in your war array, gentles and commons . 

Come from deep glen, and from mountain so rocky ; 
The war-pipe and pennon are at Inverlocky. 
Come every hill-plaid, and true heart that wears one, 
Come every steel blade, and strong hand that bears one. 

Come as the winds come, when forests are rended, 
Come as the waves come, when navies are stranded : 
Faster come, faster come, faster and faster, 
Chief, vassal, page and groom, tenant and master. 

Fast they come, fast they come ; see how they gather ! 
Wide waves the eagle plume blended with heather ! 
Cast your plaids, draw your blades, forward each man set ! 
Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, knell for the onset. — Scott. 

"Young men, ahoy there ! " 

"What is it ?" 

' ' The rapids are below you ! " 

"Ha! ha! we will laugh and quaff; all things delight us. 
What care we for the future ! No man ever saw it. Sufficient 
for the day is the evil thereof. We will enjoy life while we may ; 
will catch pleasure as it flies. This is enjoyment; time enough 
to steer out of danger when we are sailing swiftly with the 
current." 

"Young men, ahoy ! " 

"What is it?" 

' ' Beware ! Beware ! The rapids are below you ! " 

Now you see the water foaming all around. See how fast you 



108 TWENTY-NINTH LESSON. 

pass that point! Up with the helm! Now turn! Pull hardl 
quick ! quick ! quick ! pull for your lives ! pull till the blood starts 
from the nostrils, and the veins stand like whip-cords upon thy 
brow ! Set the mast in the socket ! hoist the sail ! — ah ! ah ! it is 
too late ! Shrieking, cursing, howling, blaspheming, over 
they go. 

Thousands go over the rapids every year, through the power of 
habit, crying all the while, " When I find out that it is injuring 
me I will give it up! "—John B. Gough. 



LESSOH XXIX. 



T*ie Eye. 



The eye is the leader in all expression. If we wish 
to direct attention toward anything about us, we must 
first look at it ourselves ; if we feel emotion of any sort, 
the first manifestation of it is seen in the eye. To be 
exact, we should treat of the actions of the lids and 
brows separately from those of the eye proper ; but for 
convenience we will consider the eye as comprising the 
upper and lower lids, the eye proper, and the eyebrows 
above. 

The eye in its normal condition, looking straight 
forward, indicates calmness, confidence, equality with 
the person toward whom we gaze. The eye lifted, 
looking upward, indicates calm and confident regard of 
something superior to ourselves; looking downward in- 
dicates regard of an inferior. We call these the direct 
actions of the eye. 

Starting from the normal size, the eye opens wider, 



THE EYE. 109 

through the following degrees : (1) animated attention : 
(2) surprise, pain, fear; (3) frenzy. The oje contracts 
through (1) indifference; (2) slyness, craftiness, scru- 
tiny, antagonism, to (3) sleep, or death. With all, 
except the last, we may have the three regards of the 
eye ; that is, we may look toward a superior, an equal, 
or an inferior with hatred, indifference, animation, or 
whatever may be the emotion required. 

The position of the eyebrows would sometimes be 
parallel with the upper lid, as in surprise, when both 
lid and brow rise, or in opposition, as in horror. In 
extreme terror the eyebrows rise. In threatening anger, 
physical pain, the brows contract; they contract with 
less intensity in puzzled thought, application. The 
brows rise in surprise, patient endurance, suffering. 

The indirect eye, as it is called, that is, the eye not 
looking straight forward, up or down, but more or less 
sideways, like the indirect inflections of the voice, has a 
double meaning. With the eye indirect we look at an 
object with suspicion, fear, affection, indifference, rail- 
lery, or various other emotions, according to the attitude 
of the head. For instance, the indirect eye with the 
head inclined toward an object, indicates not merely 
attention, but attention to some one or some thing we 
are attracted tc . j.rd ; with the head in the opposite 
direction the indirect eye is suspicious, fearful, or, at 
least, critical. It will be seen that the attitudes of the 
head must be carefully studied before we can have cer- 
tainty in determining the meaning of a glance. The 
indirect eye may be normal, lifted, or lowered, as well as 
the direct eye. 



110 TWENTY-NINTH LESSON. 

The various attitudes of the head combine with and 
modify the meaning of the direct eye in many instances. 
Thus, with the head drawn back we-^fould have harsh 
regard, of superior, inferior or equal, as the case might 
be ; with the head lifted, adoration or contempt, accord- 
ing to the direction of the eye, etc. 
Bowing. 

In bowing to an audience the head bends, then the 
torso inclines slightly ; the torso first returns to an erect 
position, then the head follows. Be careful to observe 
this order. The attitude of resj^ect is, of course, the 
proper one for the legs. Do not bend the knees. Glance 
about the room as you bow, or else bow several times, 
i. e. , to right, to left, and in front ; the first method is 
much the better. 

A lady's bow may have a suggestion of the 

courtesy, carrying the free foot back and then retiring 

the weight to the free foot, with a slight bend of the 

retired knee. 

To the Teacher :— The hints given above regarding the combina- 
tions of head and eye will suggest to the earnest teacher a 
broad field for investigation. How far the student may be 
allowed to work out these problems will depend upon his 
natural ability and mental advancement. The teacher can 
demand as much or as little of independent investigation as 
he deems fit. I have usually found, however, that pupils 
who are sufficiently advanced "to comprehend this work at all 
take delight in such problems, and derive much greater bene- 
fit from original investigation than from merely learning 
what is already laid down for them. The order of movement 
in attention is, first, eye, then head ; but in declamation and 
dialogues, where the action is determined and studied before- 
hand, pupils are very apt to make a mechanical turn of the 
head in inverse order : first, head, then eye. To overcome 
this may require much patience ; but the habit must be con- 
quered before the pupil proceeds further in pantomime. 



THE EYE. Ill 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

King Henry. My blood has been too cold and temperate, 
Unapt to stir at these indignities, 
As you have found me ; for, accordingly, 
You tread upon my patience ; but be sure 
I will, from henceforth, rather be myself 
Mighty and to be feared, than my condition ; 
Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down, 
And therefore lost that title of respect 
Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud. 

Worcester. Our House, my sovereign liege, little deserves 
The scourge of greatness to be used on it ; 
And that same greatness, too, which our own hands 
Have holp to make so portly. 

Northumberland. My good lord 

King. Worcester, get thee gone ; for do I see 
Danger and disobedience in thine eye : 
O sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory, 
And majesty might never yet endure 
The moody frontier of a servant brow. 
You have good leave to leave us : when we need 
Your use and counsel, we shall send for you. {Exit Worcester.] 
[To North. ] You were about to speak. 

— Shakespeare, " Henry IV." Part I. 

So stately his form, and so lovely her face, 
That never a hall such a galliard did grace; 
While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, 
And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume ; 
And the bride-maidens whispered, " 'Twere better by far 
To have matched our fair cousin with young Lochinvar. " 

—Scott 

Hear the loud alarum bells — brazen bells ! 
What a tale of terror now their turbulency tells ! 
In the startled ear of night 
How they scream out their affright \—Poe. 



LESSON XXX. 



Rhythm. 



In our first studies in emphasis we noticed that 
the important word of the phrase was often dwelt 
upon, while the subordinate words were spoken more 
rapidly in comparison. For instance, " I stood on the 
bridge," if spoken naturally, would exhibit quite a 
variety of movement* the words "I stood" would 
about equal the word " bridge " in time value, while 
" on the " would be spoken quite rapidly, " the " being 
only an obscure sound with no greater value than if it 
were an unaccented syllable. 

It is easy to see that this variety of movement not 
only serves the purpose of showing the proper rela- 
tions of the various words with one another, but is 
more agreeable to the ear than a measured and mo- 
notonous rendering could possibly be. It is this har- 
monious variety of movement that constitutes rhythm. 
It is not alone necessary, remember, that there should 
be variety, but the variety must have a reason be- 
hind it. 

Eh} T thm in speech does not differ very widely from 
musical rhythm. It is more varied and changeable, 

112 



RHYTHM. 113 

but the elements are essentially the same. We have, 
for instance, triple and common movements, phrases 
beginning upon various beats of the measure, and 
pauses, which correspond to rests in music, and, like 
them, should be proportioned to the movement of the 
spoken words. Our combinations, however, are, as 
we have said, much more varied than in music, for we 
have frequent alternations of triple and common 
time, abrupt changes in the rate of movement, and 
much greater freedom in the use of pauses. How- 
ever, when we consider what we have learned with 
respect to the melody of speech in connection with 
the above-mentioned resemblances in rhythm, we find 
that speech and song are much nearer together than 
are commonly supposed. 

We can easily illustrate both the resemblances and 
differences of the two by a few characteristic exam- 
ples : The words "Yankee Doodle" are pronounced 
just about as they are sung, so far as the rhythm is 
concerned, though as much cannot be said for the 
remaining words of the song, which are subordi- 
nated to the melody. By using dotted notes, however, 
the melody, simple as it is, may be brought pretty 
near to the natural rhythm of the lines. " Come 
to my house" is, virtually, three-four time, thus 

§ J • « J «J ^ Come to my house is f 

rhythm i; J • J I J J B II or ' if vei 7 em ~ 
phatic, | J . / | J J * 1 1 Come to mJ house 



114 THIRTIETH LESSON. 

f J | J. J" J * 1 1 Gome to my house| J. M | J 
This evening is | J | J J Come to my house 
this evening, if spoken naturally, would correspond to 
| J • / J | | J J | J, J 1 1 or better, per- 
haps, J. J J J J I J J ^ Here Ave have a mixture of 

3. =» 

triple and quadruple or common time, which is not 
rare in music, but is much more common in speech. 

The relations of words, phrases, and sentences are 
shown quite as clearly by their rhythmical propor- 
tions as by variations in pitch. 

It is easy to see that important phrases, sentences, 
and paragraphs will, other things being equal, have 
slower movement and broader rhythm than less nec- 
essary passages. Often, however, where the expres- 
sion is of an impetuous nature, the climax is attained 
by rush and stress, rather than by breadth. Compare 
the following from " Henry IV.," Part I. : 

King. Sirrah, from henceforth 

Let me not hear you speak of Mortimer : 
Send me your prisoners with the speediest means, 
Or you shall hear in such a kind from me 
As will displease you. 

Send us your prisoners or }'Ou'll hear of it. [Slow and 
[Exit.] impressive.] 

Hotspur. An if the Devil come and roar for them, 

I will not send them : I will after straight, 
And tell him so ; for I will ease my heart, 
Although it be with hazard of my head.— Shakespeare. 



RHYTHM. 115 

Contrast the commanding manner of the King with 
the impetuosity of the fiery Hotspur. 

Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells ! 

Ply all your changes, all your swells, 

Play uppe "The Brides of Enderby. "—Jean lngelow. 

Here, again, the impetuosity and excitement cause 
more rapid movement at the climax. u Sheridan's 
Ride " and Coleridge's " Hymn to Mont Blanc " may 
be instanced as examples at opposite extremes of rhyth- 
mical expression. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

When Ajax strives some rock's vast weight to throw, 
The line, too, labors, and the words move slow ; 
Not so, when swift Camilla scours the plain, 
Flies o'er the unbending corn and skims along the main. 

— Pope. 

I sprang to the stirrup, and Joris, and he ; 

I galloped, Dirck galloped, we galloped all three. 

"Good speed! " cried the watch, as the gate -bolts undrew; 

"Speed ! " echoed the wall to us galloping through. 

Behind shut the postern, the lights sank to rest, 

And into the midnight we galloped abreast. 

Not a word to each other ; we kept the great pace 
Neck by neck, stride for stride, never changing our place ; 
I turned in my saddle and made its girths tight, 
Then shortened each stirrup, and set the pique right, 
Rebuckled the cheek- strap, chained slacker the bit — 
Nor galloped less steadily Roland, a whit. 

— Robert Browning. 

Oh, you and I have heard our fathers say 
There was a Brutus once, that would have brooked 
The eternal devil to keep his state in Rome, 
As easily as a king.— Shakespeare. 



116 THIRTIETH LESSON. 

When I consider how my light is spent 

Ere half my days in this dark world and wide, 

And that one talent, which is death to hide, 

Lodged with me, useless, though my soul were bent 

To serve therewith my Maker, and present 

My true account, lest he, returning, chide. 

" Doth God exact day-labor, light denied ? " 

I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent 

That murmur, soon replies : ' ' God doth not need 

Either man's work, or his own gifts. "Who best 

Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state 

Is kingly ; thousands at his bidding speed, 

And post o'er land and ocean without rest; 

They also serve who only stand and wait. " — Milton. 

Bird of the wilderness, 

Blithesome and cumberless, 
Sweet be thy matin o'er moorland and lea ! 

Emblem of happiness, 

Blest is thy dwelling-place; 
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! 

Wild is thy lay, and loud, 

Far in the downy cloud- 
Love gives it energy ; love gave it birth. 

Where, on thy dewy wing, 

Where art thou journeying ? 
Thy lay is in heaven ; thy love is on earth. 

O'er fell and fountain sheen, 

O'er moor and mountain green, 
O'er the red streamer that heralds the day ; 

Over the cloudlet dim, 

Over the rainbow's rim, 
Musical cherub, soar, singing, away ! 

Then when the gloaming comes, 

Low in the heather blooms, 
Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be ! 

Emblem of happiness, 

Blest is thy dwelling-place ; 
Oh, to abide in the desert with thee ! — James Hogg. 



ACTIONS OF THE HAND. Ill 

So live, that when thy summons comes to join 

The innumerable caravan, that moves 

To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take 

His chamber in the silent halls of death, 

Thou go not, like the quarry -slave at night, 

Scourged to his dungeon ; but, sustained and soothed 

By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave 

Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch 

About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. — Bryant. 



lessoe: xxxi. 



Actions of the Hand. 



The actions of the arm are what are usually known as 
gestures. Although, as we have seen, gestures may be 
made elsewhere, the arm has almost a monopoly of 
them. The arm is divided into upper arm, forearm, 
and hand. We begin with the hand. 

I. — Simple Indication. (Fig. 17.) 

Point with the forefinger of either hand toward 
some object ; be sure that the 
movement is from the wrist — 
that is, that the hand alone and 
not the forearm moves. Have 




118 THIRTY-FIRST LESS OK 

the arm near the body in an easy and natural atti- 
tude. The other fingers of the hand should not 
shut tightly, but be allowed to fall easily into a 
curved position. The forefinger here is active, the 
other fingers are passive. The thumb should not 
fall lifelessly inward, but should have a degree of 
activity, being expanded outward and upward in pro- 
portion to the activity of the forefinger. 

The thumb is always more or less active in all ani- 
mated, healthy conditions of mind and body. A 
relaxed thumb indicates either lack of vitality, indif- 
ference or passivity of mind, or weakness of intellect. 
Of course, in rest and sleep, the thumb, like the other 
parts of the body, is passive, and in portraying sleep, 
fatigue, or death, the thumb should be relaxed. 

Point upward, downward, forward, outward, at the 
side, and inward across the body, with the arm in 
various attitudes. Use expressions like "Look at this 
table !" In carrying the hand outward at the side be 
careful that the outward movement is edgewise, or, as 
we say, that the edge of the hand leads. 

A graceful gesture is always made in the easiest 
manner. The edge of the hand, like the bow of a 
boat, passes through the air with the least resistance ; 
the palm, on the contrary, seems to push away the air 
by sheer force. It is plain that the edgewise movement 
will appear more graceful and easy to the eye of the 
beholder, while the palm leading gives an impression 
of greater strength because seeming to overcome 



ACTIONS OF THE HAND. 119 

greater resistance, or, at least, being capable of over- 
coming it if it were present. 

The back of the hand is the weakest as the palm is 
the strongest side of the hand, and all gestures in 
which the back of the hand leads seem weak and 
ineffective. Avoid, therefore, leading with the back 
of the hand, unless you intend to give an impression 
of weakness. 

II. — Beckoning. 

Beckon with the hand, that is, indicate yourself. 
" I myself ;" " come here !" 

III. — Admiration. 

Lift the hand, palm outward, with gentle activity of 
the fingers, much as if you would caress something 
before you, or, more strongly, as if to exhibit some- 
thing on your palm. This expresses admiration, pleas- 
ure in something before you in reality or in imagina- 
tion ; with very gentle action it shows a wish to caress 
the object. " It was magnificent !" " How beautiful 
she is 1" " How soft and warm ! " 

IY. — Repulsion. 

Raise the hand, palm outward, with all the fingers 
active and spread apart, as if -to ward off something 
from the body. 

This is the attitude of sudden surprise or fear, or 
whenever there is a feeling of repulsion or desire to 



120 THIRTY-FIRST LESSON. 

ward off something. ' ' Oh ! " u ugh, " " disgusting, ' ' 
"keep off." 

Combine actions and attitudes of the head with these 
gestures. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

Now, in building of chaises, I tell you what, 

There is always somewhere a weakest spot ; 

And that's the reason, beyond a doubt, 

A chaise breaks down, but doesn't wear out— Holmes. 

Flower in the crannied wall, 

I pluck you out of the crannies ; — 
Hold you here, root and all, in my hand, 
Little flower ; — but if I could understand 
What you are, root and all, and all in all, 

I should know what God and man is.— Tennyson. 

Beneath a rose, as morning broke, 
An angel from his sleep awoke. 

Pleased with the flower above his head, 
So fair and beautiful, he said : 

" Thy fragrance and thy cooling shade 
Have doubly sweet my slumbers made. 

"Fairest of flowers on earth that grow, 
Ask what you will, and I'll bestow. " 

" Grant, then," it cried, "I'll ask no more, 
Some charm no flower has known before I " 

The angel first seemed at a loss, 
Then clothed the bush in simple moss. 

And lo ! the moss rose stood confessed, 
A lovelier flower than all the rest. 

— " The Moss Rose." 



lessoe: xxxii 



Articulation. — Continued. 



The middle of the tongue rises to form the conso- 
nant y. 

K and g are formed by the shutting together and 
recoil of the back of the tongue and the soft-palate. 
Ng is the nasal sound in this position. 

S and sh are hissing sounds made through the nearly 
closed teeth. 

Z and zh are buzzing sounds in much the same posi- 
tion. {Zh represents the sound of z in azure and of g 
in rouge. ) 

Tsh is the best representation of the sound of eh in 
chin, church, much. 

Dzh is the sound of j and soft g in Jane, age. 

Kw is the sound of q in queer. 

Ks is the sound of x in vex, text. 

Many consonants stand for different sounds. It will 
be found that the list we have given covers the entire- 
field, the various letters and combinations omitted being 
simply duplicates of these. Thus : ch hard in choir is 
the sound of k; c is either s or k according as it is 
hard or soft, as in cinder, cat. 

121 



122 THIRTY-SECOND LESSON. 

H is not usually regarded as a true consonant, being 
simply a rough breathing, or aspiration, as it is called. 
Compare hat, at, oyster, hoister, etc. 

Th is not an aspirated t, but a separate sound having 
its own definite position of the tongue. So ph is not 
aspirated^, but/! 

Vocal Exercises. — Continued. 
For Forward Placing of the Voice. 

1. Hum very softly the sound m. Open the mouth 
very gently, still keeping the soft humming sound. 

2. Practise the hum with open mouth at the begin- 
ning. 

3. Practise in combination with the various vowel - 
sounds, thus : m — a, m — o, prolonging both the hum- 
ming sound and the vowel. 

4. With full voice explode the sounds ma, ma, mo, 
as directed in Lesson XXIX. 

5. Also use la, td, Id, to, both softly and loudly. 
"With no break in the soft humming sound, make a 
series of vowels like a a e o do with the slightest pos- 
sible action of the agents of articulation. 

6. Practise crescendos and diminuendos; that is, in- 
creasing and diminishing the volume of sounds without 
changing the quality of the voice. 

To the Teacher :— The proper sensation here should be of a warm 
current of air passing through the face ; or, in other words, 
of gentle vibration of the resonators. Enlarge this a r ea. of 
vibration until it includes both head and chest. Test by- 
closing the nostrils ; if the tone is properly placed, this will 
not interfere with it. 



VOCAL EXERCISES. m 

EXAMPLES FOE VOICE -PLACING AM) BREATH -CONTROL. 

Full fathom five thy father lies; 

Of his bones are coral made ; 
Those are pearls that were his eyes ; 

Nothing of him that doth fade 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
• Into something rich and strange. 
Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell : 

{Burden) Ding-dong — 
Hark ! now I hear them — Ding-dong, bell. 

— Shakespeare. 

"Where the bee sucks, there suck I ; 

In a cowslip's bell I lie. 

There I couch when owls do cry. 

On the bat's back I do fly 

After Summer, merrily. 

Merrily, merrily shall I live now 

Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. 

— Sha kesjyeare 

1st Fairy. You spotted snakes with double tongue, 
Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen ; 
Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong, 
Come not near our fairy queen. 
Chorus. Philomel, with melody 

Sing in our sweet lullaby ; 

Lulla. lulla, lullaby ; lulla, lulla. lullaby ; 

Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, 

Come our lovely lady nigh : 

So, good-night, with lullaby. 

1st Fairy. Weaving spiders, come not here; 

Hence, you long-legg'd spinners, hence ! 
Beetles black, approach not near ; 
Worm nor snail, do no offence, 
Chorcs. Philomel, with melody, etc.— Shakespeare. 



LESSON XXXIII. 



Actions of the Hand.— Continued. 



Y. — Appeal. 

Extend the hand in front, with palm up, fingers 
active, as if to take something. " Give it to me." 

This is the action of appeal. It is appropriate not 
only to a request for some object, but to all questions 
of appeal, such as " am I not right ?" " won't you do 
it?" and even to simple interrogations. 

"VT. — Rejection. 

With the hand extended in front, palm down, as if 
covering a flat surface, move the hand sideways out- 
ward, as if trying to push something away with tho 
outer edge of the hand. 

This is rejection, denial, negation. " Take it away,' 
"nonsense," " pshaw," "I don't believe it." This ac- 
tion is stronger when the palm is " from earth," that 
is, as in IY. It is then called demonstrative rejection. 

YIL — Declaration. 
Fold the hand slightly toward the body as in II., 
but without special activity of the forefinger; then 

124 



ACTIONS OF THE HAND. 125 

carry the hand outward at the side until the palm is 
toward the audience, as if to show that you have 
nothing concealed in or about your hand. 

This is declaration, revelation. " It is so," " you 
can see for yourself." 

VIII. — Declaration ivith Surrender. 

As in V., but with a downward inclination of the 
hand as well. 

This is a declarative movement with surrender. 
" You are right," "I acknowledge it," " I was wrong," 
"I give it up." (The downward tendency of the hand 
is in proportion to the degree of surrender, the out- 
ward to that of revelation.) 

IX. — Concealment. 

Place the hand upon the body, as if to conceal or 
caress some part of it. 

This is the opposite of VII. and VIII. It is the ac- 
tion of apprehension, concealment, self-caress. When 
we feel pain the hand seeks the suffering part in this 
way. 

Practise all the foregoing movements until the hand 
is flexible and free. At first relax the hand com- 
pletely between the gestures, but when the gestures 
have been thoroughly learned separately, practise 
them in a connected series in the order in which they 
have been given, and in other combinations, i.e., (1) 
indicate, (2) beckon, (3) admire or caress, (4) repel, (5) 



126 THIRTY-THIRD LESSON. 

appeal, (6) deny, (7) reveal, (8) surrender, (9) conceal. 
Practise with each hand until gesture is as natural with 
one as with the other. Numbers 2 to 9 may be prac- 
tised with both hands together. Finally, practise these 
actions from the elbow — that is, moving the forearm 
as well as the hand. Be careful to observe the proper 
order of movement, namely, the forearm moves first, 
then the hand. The hand is surrendered until the 
forearm is nearly in its place, then the hand acts as 
before. 

EXAMPLES FOR PRACTICE. 

Oh ! then, I see, Queen Mab hath been with you. 
She conies, 
In shape no bigger than an agate stone 
On the forefinger of an alderman, 
Drawn with a team of little atomies 
Athwart men's noses, as they lie asleep. 
Her chariot is an empty hazel-nut, 
Made by the joiner, Squirrel, or old Grub, 
Time out o' mind the fairies' coachmakers. 
Her wagon-spokes made of long spinners' legs; 
The cover, of the wings of grasshoppers ; 
The traces, of the smallest spider's web ; 
The collars, of the moonshine's watery beams; 
Her whip, of cricket's bone ; the lash, of film ; 
Her wagoner, a small gray-coated gnat ; 
And in this state she gallops night by night 
Through lovers' brains, and then they dream of love. 
On courtiers' knees, that dream on court'sies straight , 
O'er lawyers' fingers, who straight dream on fees , 
O'er ladies' lips, whc straight on kisses dream, 
Which oft the angry Mab with blisters plagues 
Because their breaths with sweetmeats tainted are. 
Sometimes she gallops o'er a courtier's nose, 



VOCAL EXERCISES. 127 

And then dreams he of smelling out a suit ; 
And sometimes comes she with a tithe-pig's tail 
Tickling a parson's nose that lies asleep, 
Then dreams he of another benefice , 
Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, 
And then dreams he of cutting foreign throats, 
Of breaches, ambuscadoes, Spanish blades, 
Of healths five fathom deep : and then, anon, 
Drums in his ear— at which he starts and wakes, 
And, being thus frighted, swears a prayer or two. 
And sleeps again. — Shakespeare. 

Can storied urn or animated bust 
Back to its mansion call the fleeting breath ? 

Can Honor's voice provoke the silent dust, 
Or Flattery soothe the dull, cold ear of Death ? 

The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, 
And all that beauty, all that wealth e'er gave, 

Await alike th' inevitable hour — 
The paths of glory lead but to the grave. 

Full many a gem of purest ray serene 
The dark, unfathom'd caves of ocean bear ; 

Full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
And waste its sweetness on the desert air. 

Some village Hampden, that with dauntless breast 

The little tyrant of his fields withstood, 
Some mute, inglorious Milton here may rest ; 

Some Cromwell, guiltless of his country's blood. 

Th' applause of list'ning senates to command, 

The threats of pain and ruin to despise, 
To scatter plenty o'er a smiling land, 

And read their history in a nation's eyes, 

Their lot forbade : nor circumscribed alone 
Their growing virtues, but their crimes confined, 

Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne, 
And shut the gates of mercy on mankind. — Gray. 



12* THIRTY-FOURTH LESSON. 

Up, up ! my friend, and quit your books, 

Or surely you'll grow double ; 
Up, up I my friend, and clear your looks; 

Why all this toil and trouble ? 
The sun, above the mountain's head, 

A freshening lustre mellow 
Through all the long green fields has spread, 

His first sweet evening yellow. 
Books ! 'tis a dull and endless strife ; 

Come, hear the woodland linnet ; 
How sweet his music ! on my life, 

There's more of wisdom in it. — Wordsworth. 



LESSOH XXIY. 



Pitch, Movement, and Volume. 



All light, unconstrained feelings manifest themselves 
by high pitch and more or less rajrid movement. 

Merrily swinging od briar and weed, 
Near to the nest of his little dame ; 

Over the mountain-side or mead 
Robert of Lincoln is telling his name.— Bryant. 

Serious, dignified expression, on the other hand, calls 
for self-restraint ; therefore, the movement will be 
slower, the pitch lower, and the pauses more frequent 
and longer in proportion to the degree of seriousness or 
dignity. Yery solemn or sad expression would have 
low tone and very slow movement. 



PITCH, MOVEMENT, AND VOLUME. 129 

How long, O Catiline, wilt thou abuse our patience ? 

How long shalt thou baffle justice in thy mad career?— Cicero. 

To be — or not to be — that is the question. — Shakespeare. 

Break, break, break, 

At the foot of the crags, O sea ! 

But the tender grace of a day that is dead 

Will never come back to me. — Tennyson. 

In excitement the movement is abrupt withy frequent 
pauses. 

And lo ! — as he looks — on the belfry's height 

A glimmer — and then a gleam of light 1 

A hurry of hoofs in a village street — 

A shape in the moonlight — a bulk in the dark — 

And beneath— from the pebbles in passing — a spark — 

Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet. — Longfellow. 

In unemotional reading we have medium pitch 
and rate, that is, the pitch and rate of ordinary con- 
versation. 

There is one accomplishment, in particular, which I would ear- 
nestly recommend to you. Cultivate assiduously the ability to read 
well. Where one person is really interested by music, twenty are 
pleased by good reading. Where one person is capable of becoming 
a skilful musician, twenty may become good readers. — Hart. 

With regard to the volume or loudness of the voice, 
it may be said that, in general, the ordinary speaking- 
voice is sufficient. In shrieking, calling, shouting, 
cheering, and the expression of unrestrained anger 
or defiance, the volume may be very great, but even 
here do not try to stun your hearers. Never mistake 
noise or bluster for intensity. True feeling does not 
manifest itself by explosive utterance. In gentle, 



THIRTY-FOURTH LESSON, 

subdued emotions, the voice is soft and musical, 
whilst in awe, secrec} T , and fear, it sinks almost and 
sometimes quite to a whisper. 

Kemember that in speaking in a large hall, it is 
necessary to allow time for the voice to reach every 
person in the audience, so we should speak more 
slowly than when at home, or in the school-room. 
If we are careful to do this, we need not shout nor 
strain the voice, but we can use our every-day conver- 
sational tone and be perfectly at ease. 

Do not speak in a measured and stilted manner at 
any time, but keep the same proportion between im- 
portant and unimportant words as in ordinary con- 
versation. It is best to talk, for the most part, to 
that portion of the audience that is farthest from you. 
In that way you will learn to " project " the tone so 
that the words are carried distinctly everywhere. 

If there is an echo, speak more softly and slowly 
than usual. Always begin quietly, so that you feel a 
sense of reserve power. 

Carefully avoid diminishing the volume of the voice 
in any phrase after the emphatic word has been 
reached. To give the remaining words with less than 
the previous degree of strength gives an impression of 
physical weakness, as if the breath had given out. Of 
course, this rule does not apply to instances where 
that especial effect is desired. 

Do not interpret what has been said here to mean 
that the volume of the voice is never to vary. In all 



PITCH, MOVEMENT, AND VOLUME. 131 

strong, vital emotions there will be a more or less grad- 
ual increase of volume corresponding to the crescendo in 
music, culminating on the emphatic word. In very 
tender emotions the volume may gradually diminish 
until the emphatic word is reached. Compare ' ' How I 
hate you " with ' ' How I love you. " 

By this time your studies have shown you many 
examples of what is called emotional emphasis — 
that is, expression which brings out the feelings of the 
speaker, as well as the ideas in his mind. All of the 
elements of expression are means of portraying emotion. 
You should use these means wherever they are appro- 
priate, but always try to really feel what you would 
express and express only what you feel. This is 
the secret of natural delivery. One may cultivate and 
control the emotions just as one develops the intellectual 
powers. Moreover, in so doing we learn the lesson of 
self-mastery, which is far more important than the most 
perfect expression. 

Notice that in many of the following examples many 
single words have an emotional meaning of their own. 
Such are ' ' lazy, " " dawdling, ' ' " awful, " " angry, ' ' 
' ' holy. ' ' The same rules of expression apply to these 
as to phrases and sentences. 

The tense or relaxed states of the body, and especially 
of the pharynx or back of the mouth, have much to do 
with emotional expression. In love and pleasure, gen- 
erally, we draw in our words and linger over them, while 
we expel more or less violently words that express un- 



■■* 



132 THIR TY-FO UR TH LESSON. 

pleasant things. Compare beautiful, gentle, noble, kmd, 
holy, with bestial, disgusting, contemptible, nauseous, 
hideous, or with expletives, bah, pshaw, and the like. 

EXAMPLES OF TRANSITION IN EXPRESSION. 

Never a horse a jockey would worship and admire 
Like Flash in front of the engine a-racing to the fire ; 
Never a horse so lazy, so dawdling, and so slack, 
As Flash upon his return trip, a-drawing the engine back. 

— Carletoru 

The combat deepens. On, ye brave, 
Who rush to glory or the grave ! 
Wave, Munich ! all thy banners wave, 
And charge with all thy chivalry ! 

Ah ! few shall part where many meet ! 
The snow shall be their winding-sheet, 
And every turf beneath their feet 
Shall be a soldier's sepulchre.— Campbell. 

Hush ! hark ! did stealing steps go by ? Came not faint whispers 

near ? 
No ! The wild wind hath many a sigh amid the foliage sere. 

Hark ! yet again ! — and from his hand what grasp hath wrenched 

the blade ? 
Oh, single 'midst a hostile band, young soldier, thou'rt betrayed ! 
' ' Silence ! " in undertones they cry ; "no whisper — not a breath ! 
The sound that warns thy comrades nigh shall sentence thee to 

death ! " 

Still at the bayonet's point he stood, and strong to meet the blow; 
And shouted, 'midst his rushing blood, "Arm! arm! Auvergne! 

the foe ! " 
The stir, the tramp, the bugle -call, he heard their tumults grow ; 
And sent his dying voice through all, "Auvergne! Auvergne! 
the foe! "~-Mr§, Hemans. 



FULL- ARM GESTURES. 133 

Old Master Brown brought his ferule down : 

His face was angry and red : 

" Anthony Blair, go sit you there 
Among the girls, " he said. 

So Anthony Blair, with a mortified air, 
And his head hung down on his breast, 

Went right away and sat all day 
With the girl who loved him best. 



LESSOH XXXY. 



Full-Arm Gestures. 



Full-arm gestures are appropriate where there is great 
earnestness, strong feeling, or ,when addressing an audi- 
ence of any size. 

We have an almost infinite number of expressive 
actions of the arm, but a few examples will suffice to 
illustrate right and wrong ways of making them. 

One of the most common faults is not observing the 
proper order of movement, which is : First, upper arm ; 
second, forearm; finally, the hand and fingers. An- 
other fault is to finish the gesture with the arm only 
partly developed, ' ' broken, ' ' as we sometimes say 
(Fig. 5). 

Exercise I. 

Indication {palm up). 
Select an object at the side. Remember that the 
actions of the eye and head precede that of the arm. 



134 



THIRTY-FIFTH LESSON. 



1. liaise the upper arm, letting the rest of the arm 

hang lifeless, until the 

;••» 5—«~-y elbow points in the cli- 

« — :.. r ^^ rection of the object. 

/ 2. Straighten the fore- 

arm, at the same time 
turning it at the elbow 
so that the hand, which 
still remains passive, is 
Q . is. moved edgewise until 

the wrist is "from earth/' bringing the palm up. 

3. Straighten out the hand with the forefinger point- 
ing as described in Lesson XXXI. Use every-day ex- 
pressions, like " look at that," " take a chair." 




Exercise II. 

Indication {palm dozen). 

This is a more active expression than the former 

. one. In pointing out objects 

at a great distance, or where 

is/_ m there is great earnestness, ex- 

FlG - 19 - citement or command, we use 

this form of indication ; the other is more easy and 
trustful. 

The order of action is as before, but with the outer 
edge of the hand leading instead of the inner. (Fig. 18.) 
" Go !" " Who is it leans from the belfry with face 
upturned to the sky?" 



FULL- ARM GESTURES. 



135 



Practise these until the three movements blend 
gracefully. Be very careful not to overdo the move- 
ments or add affected curves to the forearm and 
hand movements. Make every gesture as simple as 
possible. 

Exercise III. 
Indication of Self — Folding Movement. 

Here the arm folds in instead of developing out- 
ward. With the arm hanging at the side : 

(a) Turn the arm slightly, bringing the palm out- 
ward, at the same time carrying the elbow out a very 
little distance from the body. (Fig. 20.) 






(b) Fold the hand so as to bring the fingers point- 
ing toward the part to be indicated. (Fig. 21.) 

(c) Fold the forearm, at the same time raising the 
upper arm and carrying it out from the body, until the 
fingers touch the spot you wish to indicate. (Fig. 22.) 




136 THIRTY-FIFTH LESSON. 

Study the movements separately, then blend them. 
Indicate various parts of the body, using appropri- 
ate expressions, for instance : touching the forehead 

with the forefinger, 
"let me see;" touching 
the lips, " hush ;" 
pressing the palm 
against the heart, "Oh, 
I have suffered with 
fio. 28. those that I saw suf- 

fer ;" touching the side of the nose with the forefin- 
ger, "Joey B. is sly, sir." Fig. 23 illustrates an indi- 
cation preceded by a folding movement. Where there 
is strong personal feeling, gestures are often begun in 
this way, mental gestures starting from the head, emo- 
tional gestures, love, indignation, etc., from the chest 
or heart region, vital gestures from the waist. 

Exekcise IV. 

Suspense. 

An attitude of the hand and arm which often accom- 
panies the attitude of susjDense or hesitation in the 
legs is that in which the hand is drawn in toward the 
body, the palm downward, the fingers spread well 
apart, and the elbow active, very much as in Fig. 26, 
but with the hand much nearer the line of the waist, 
and not quite so near the body. Fig. 33 is also an 
example of another and stronger form of suspensive 
action, indicating a tendency to repel. These attitudes 



FULL-ARM GESTURES. 137 

always go finally into some fully developed gesture, 
varying, of course, according to the emotion that suc- 
ceeds the state of suspense. 

Exercise V. 
Returning to Rest. 

In bringing the arm to rest again after one or more 
gestures, if the last gesture has been a folding move- 
ment, simply unfold again in inverse order (c, b, a) and 
let the arm fall back in a relaxed position ; if the ges- 
ture is an extended one, turn the forearm until the 
wrist is downward, " to earth," if not already in that 
position, then relax the arm, still holding the hand in 
position, and sink the wrist ; let the arm drop at the 
side, the wrist drawing the hand after it. 

Practise this slowly until control is gained. Prac- 
tise also carrying the arm from side to side, the hand 
following the movement of the arm in the same way, 
just as a handkerchief waved to and fro follows the 
hand. 

Practise all the gestures described in Lessons 
XXXI. and XXXIII. with full-arm movements. 

To the Teacher: — In all gestures made with one hand only, except 
the very lightest, there is a tendency in the less active hand to 
sympathize with the action of the other, either by acting in op- 
position, in less demonstrative parallelism, or by taking an atti- 
tude expressive of the emotion that prompts the gesture. This 
action of the weak hand is called the supporting gesture. To 
enter upon the study of these gestures in detail would be beyond 
the limits that I have assigned myself in the preparation of this 
book. The supporting action will be strong in proportion to the 
strength of the principal gesture. Encourage the pupils in the 



THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON. 

greatest freedom of movement. If there is genuine feeling be- 
hind the gesture, the supporting movement or attitude will take 
care of itself. See that it does not contradict the gesture, and 
at least insist on a corresponding attitude of the hand if there 
is reluctance on the part of the pupil to go further. The knowl- 
edge and ingenuity of the teacher must supplement the instruc- 
tions given here as elsewhere. The voice and example of a 
good instructor are worth more than any written description of an 
exercise. Caution pupils against making too many gestures and 
against extravagant action. For instance, in declaration the arms 
may rise through all degrees of altitude to a considerable angle 
above the line of the shoulders, yet in ordinary expression an 
angle of thirty to forty-five degrees from the perpendicular is 
amply sufficient, and often, especially in conversation, the arm 
hardly more than pivots so as to bring the palm out. Teach your 
scholars thai a gesture is a strong form of emphasis, and must 
be reserved for a climax, and, except in very light, trivial emo- 
tions, must be sustained until the end of the sentence in which 
it occurs, unless superseded by another action. 



LESSON XXXVI. 



Oppositions of the Head and Arms. 



If we wish to be sure that the person whom we ad- 
dress in Indication sees the object indicated, we look 
back from it to him, still pointing toward the object. 
For instance, in pointing out an object at the right, 
we would turn the head toward it ; but w T hen the arm 
began to move toward the object, the head would begin 
to turn back toward the person addressed. When the 
head and arm move in the same direction, they are 
said to have parallel motion. When, as described 
above, the head and arm move in opposite directions 



OPPOSITIONS OF THE HEAD AND ARMS. 139 

at the same time, they are said to be in opposition, or 
to oppose each other. 

Law : Parallel movements should be successive, 
opposing- movements should be simultaneous. 

If the head and arm move in the same direction to- 
gether, the appearance to the beholder is often very 
ridiculous and always awkward. When, on the con- 
trary, opposing movements follow each other, the 
action seems to drag, and the harmony of the gesture 
is destroyed. The law applies to the whole body. 
When we draw back as in fear, the hand and arm go 
toward the object; when the baud is drawn back, the 
body advances. If there is parallel action, as in greet- 
ing a friend, the body and arm both advancing, be 
careful that the movements are always successive, the 
body first, the arm succeeding. 

Exercise I. 

Indication with Opposition of Head and Arm. 
(Figs. 24, 25.) 

Order of Movement. 
First, the eye and head turn toward the object, then 
as the arm begins to rise to its position, or " develop," 
as we sometimes say, the head and eyes return to their 
original position, or, if we are addressing a particular 
individual, until the gaze is fixed upon him. The arm 
is fully developed just as the eye and hand finish their 
return movement, so that both come to rest at the 
same time. With folding movement, fold as the head 
is turning toward the object. 



140 



THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON. 




Fig. 24. 




Exercise II. 



Rejection, or Denial. (Figs. 26, 27.) 

Action of head and eye as in .Indication, the arm in 
front, folding it toward the body while the head turns 
toward the object rejected. As the head returns, the 
arm moves outward at the side as if pushing some- 
thing away. This may be practised with the edge 
and with the palm. Tne edge is more graceful, while 
the palm gives the impression of greater strength 
being exerted. In the lighter forms of rejection, the 
arm hardly folds at all, but starts out at once from its 
position at the side. 



OPPOSITIONS OF THE HEAD AND ARMS. 141 





EXEKCISE III. 



Rejection of Trifles. 

Kejection of trifles is made with the weakest part 
of the hand, i.e., the back, and either outward or up- 
ward. The latter is the more contemptuous action. 

In all oppositions, the degree of action in the head 
is in direct proportion to that of the arm. The head 
inclines or pivots from the object according to the 
strength of feeling. The inclination of the head is 
less powerful than the pivot. In rejection of trifles 
the action of the head will be slight ; in fact, the eye 
alone is often sufficient for this gesture. 



142 THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON, 





Exercise . IV. 

Affirmation. (Figs. 28, 29, 30.) 

Here the action is up and down instead of outward. 
The arm first folds as in self-indication, but without 
bringing the hand quite so near to the body, while the 
head bows toward it. Then the head rises to the 
normal attitude, or is even lifted in strong affirmation, 
while the arm unfolds, finishing its gesture with the 
palm open toward the audience. 

Practise this as well as the preceding with three 
degrees of emphasis : (1) moderate ; (2) with consider- 
able energy ; (3) with head uplifted and arm extended 



OPPOSITIONS OF THE HEAD AND ARMS, 143 



straight downward at the front, with the hand fully 
expanded. Practise also bringing the edge of the 
hand instead of the palm toward the audience. This 
is definition, or the teacher's affirmation, and is appro- 
priate to quiet, earnest moods of the mind. Also with 
clinched fist. This affirmation is appropriate to anger, 
defiance, and the like. 





Exercise V. 
Assertion. (Figs. 31, 32.) 
The head rises, the eye seeking heaven, then returns 
to the audience while the arm is lifted. 



144 



THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON. 



Practise this with forefinger pointing upward and 
with open palm. The former is intellectual, the latter 
more emotional, open-hearted, strong. 





Exercise VI. 

Repulsion. (Figs. 33, 34.) 

The hands are thrust out as if to push something 
away, while the whole body draws back and turns 
away as if shrinking from some dreaded or displeasing 
object. 

Of course, the strength of the action will depend 
upon the degree of repugnance. It may vary from 
playful, or pretended repulsion to that caused by ex- 



OPPOSITIONS OF THE HEAD AND ARMS. 145 

treme fear. Remember to draw back the hips more 
than the shoulders. 

Practise in various directions : in front, at the sides, 
upward, and downward, keeping the eye fixed on the 
object, and also turning the face away, as if unable to 
endure the sight. 

EXAMPLES FOE PRACTICE. 

It is only the pure fountain that brings forth pure water. The 
good tree only will produce the good fruit. If the centre from 
which all proceeds is pure and holy, the radii of influence from it 
will be pure and holy also. Go forth, then, into the spheres that 
you occupy, the employments, the trades, the professions of 
social life ; go forth into the high places or into the lowly places 
of the land ; mix with the roaring cataracts of social convulsions, 
or mingle amid the eddys and streamlets of quiet and domestic 
life ; whatever sphere you fill, carrying into it a holy heart, you 
will radiate around you life and power, and leave behind you 
holy and beneficent influences. — Gumming. 

Up from the meadows, rich with corn, 

Clear, in the cool September morn, 

The clustered spires of Frederick stand, 

Green- walled by the hills of Maryland. — Whittier. 

" Come back, come back, Horatius! " loud cried the fathers all. 
" Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! Back, ere the ruin fall!" 

— Macaulay. 

" The olde sea-wall (he cried) is downe; 

The rising tide comes on apace, 
And boats adrift in yonder towne 

Go sailing uppe the market-place. " 
He shook as one that looks on death . 
v God save you, mother ! " straight he saith; 
" Where is my wife, Elizabeth ? " 



146 THIRTY-SIXTH LESSON. 

A moment there was awful pause- 
When Berkeley cried, ' ' Cease, traitor ! cease ; 
God's temple is the house of peace ! " 

The other shouted, ' ' Nay, not so, 
When God is with our righteous cause ; 
His holiest places then are ours." — T. B. Read. 

Brutus. How ill this taper burns ! Ha ! who comes here ? 
I think it is the weakness of mine eyes 
That shapes this monstrous apparition. 
It comes upon me. Art thou anything ? 
Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil, 
That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare ? 
Speak to me what thou art. 

Ghost. Thy evil spirit, Brutus. 

Bru. Why comest thou ? 

Ghost. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi. 

Bru. Well ; then I shall see thee again ? 

Ghost. Aye, at Philippi 

Bru. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then. [Exit Ghost.] 
Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest : 
111 spirit, I would hold more talk with thee. 
Boy Lucius! Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake! 
Claudius ! — Shakespeare. 

While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying pros- 
pects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that 
I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at 
least, that curtain may not rise ! God grant that on my vision 
never may be opened what lies behind ! When my eyes shall be 
turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not 
see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once 
glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ; on 
a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold 
gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored 
throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and 
trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or 



DIFFICULT ARTICULATION. 147 

polluted, nor a single star obscured— bearing for its motto no 
such miserable interrogatory as " What is all this worth ? " nor 
those other words of delusion and folly, "Liberty first, and 
Union afterwards "—but everywhere, spread all over in charac- 
ters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over 
the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole 
heavens, that other sentiment — dear to every true American 
heart — Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and insepa- 
rable ! — Webster. 



LESSOK XXXYTI. 



Aj-ticulation. — Continued. — Difficult 
Combinations. 



The following list of words and sentences contains 
specimens of nearly every difficult combination of conso- 
nant-sounds that you are likely to meet in reading. 
Some are, of course, very rarely found, but all should 
be practised in order to attain flexibility and accuracy 
in the use of the agents of articulation. 

Acts, facts, lists, ghosts, depths, droop' st, adopts, 
fifths, laughst, hookst, desks, satst, help'st, twelfths, 
thefts, milk'st, halt'st, limp'st, attemptst, want'st, 
thinkst, warpst, dwarfst, hurtst, sixths, eighths, texts, 
protects, still' st, sparkl'st, waken' st, robb'st, £,midst, 
width, digg'st, rav'st, writh'st, prob'dst, hundredths, 
begg'dst, besieg'dst, catch' dst, troubl'st, trifi'st, shov'lst, 
kindl'st, struggl'st, puzzl'st, shieldst, revolv'st, help'dst, 
trembl'dst, trill' dst, shov'ldst, involv'dst, twinkl'dst, 
fondl'dst, dazzl'dst, rattl'dst, send'st, wak'n'dst, mad- 



148 THIRTY-SEVENTH LESSON 

d 5 n'dst, ligkten'dst, ripen'dst, hearken'dst, doom'dst, 
o'erwhelm'dsts, absorbst, regard'st, curb'dst, hurl'dst, 
charrn'dst, returu'dst, starv'dst, strength'ns, strength 'n'd, 
wrong'dst, lengthen'dst, sooth'dst, act'st, lift'st, melt'st, 
hurt'st, wani'st, shout'st, toucli'd, parcli'd, help'dst, 
bark'dst, prorapt'st, touch'dst, rattl'st. 

Put the cut pumpkin in a pipkin. Coop up the 
cook. A big mad dog bit bad Bob. Keep the tiprjet 
ticket Kate hates tight tapes. Geese cackle, cattle 
low, crows caw, cocks crow. The bleak breeze blighted 
the bright broom blossoms. Dick dipped the tippet 
and dripped it. Giddy Kittie's tawdry gewgaws. The 
need}* needlewoman needn't wheedle. Fetch the poor 
fellow's feather pillow. A very watery western vapor. 
Six thick thistle sticks. She says she shall sew a 
sheet. The sun shines on the shop signs. A shock- 
ing sottish set of shopmen. A short soft shot-silk 
sash. A silly shatter-brained chatterbox. Fetch six 
chaises. She thrust it through the thatch. Thrice the 
shrew threw the shoe. The slow snail's slime. I- snuff 
shop snuff, do you snuff shop snuff ? She sells seashells. 
Some shun sunshine. The sweep's suitably sooty 
suit. A rural ruler. Truly rural. Literally literary. 
Rober^ loudly rebuked Richard, who ran lustily roar- 
ing round the lobby. His right leg lagged in the race. 
Amidst the mists with angry boasts he thrusts his 
fists against the posts, and still insists he sees the 
ghosts. Around the rugged rocks the ragged rascal 
ran. Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. 



DIFFICULT ARTICULATION. 140 

Theophilus Thistle, the successful Thistle sifter, 
in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three 
thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb ; now 
if Theophilus Thistle, the successful thistle sifter, 
in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, thrust three 
thousand thistles through the thick of his thumb, see 
that thou, in sifting a sieve full of unsifted thistles, 
thrust not three thousand thistles through the thick 
of thy thumb. Success to the successful thistle sifter, 

My dame has a lame tame crane, 
My dame has a crane that is tame ; 
Oh, pray, gentle Jane, 
Let my dame's lame tame crane 
Drink and come home again. 

Laid in the cold ground [not coal ground]. Half I 
see the panting spirit sigh [not spirit's eye]. Be the 
same in thine own act and valor as thou art in desire 
[not thy known]. Oh, the torment of an ever-meddling 
memory [not a never meddling]. All night it lay an 
ice-drop there [not a nice drop]. Oh, studied deceit 
[not study]. A sad dangler [not angler]. Goodness 
centres in the heart [not enters]. His crime moved 
me [not cry]. Chaste stars [not chase tars]. She 
could pain nobody [not pay]. Make clean our hearts 
[not lean]. His beard descending swept his aged 
breast [not beer]. Did you say ten minutes to wail* 
or ten minutes to eight ? A sore eye saw I. Why y V 
Thou straightest, fastest strokes struck'dst, Stephen. 



150 THIRTY-EIGHTH LESSON. 

To the Teacher : — Many of the above sentences have been taken 
from Pro f . Bell's excellent work, " The Principles of Elocu- 
tion," to which I am glad to refer all teachers who wish to be 
abreast of the times in our art. Be careful that pupils do not 
overdo the sound of s so frequent in many of these combinations; 
in combinations like sts, in lasts, posts, etc., the difficulty is not 
with the s, but to bring out properly the t. The separation of 
similar sounds, as of two s's in succession, can only be effected 
by an instant of perfect jaw- relaxation between them. It is 
taken for granted that the teacher understands the actions of 
the various agents of articulation sufficiently well to be able to 
point out such technical exercises for overcoming special defi- 
ciencies as may be necessaiy in addition to those I have given. 



LESSON XXXVIII. 



Facial Expression. 



The forehead, eyes, nose and mouth are the agents 
of facial expression. Facial expression comes in or- 
der of succession before gestures of any part. The 
face is next the brain, and is the first part to receive 
impressions from it. 

A smooth forehead denotes calmness, serenity. The 
brow drawn down and contracted indicates mental 
concentration, perplexity, antagonism, resistance to 
pain, according to the degree of contraction. The 
brow lifted indicates interested or eager attention, 
surprise. The brow lifted and contracted denotes 
sorrow, grief, patient endurance of mental or physical 
suffering. The brow rises with the " patient shrug." 



FACIAL EXPRESSION. 151 

We have already discussed the eye in previous les- 
sons. 

The NOSE has few actions, and is not capable of 
many changes. It is the centre of the face, and like 
the torso, which is the centre of the body, must main- 
tain a dignity commensurate with its position. The 
nostrils expand in strong emotions to allow more air 
to enter the lungs. A large, open nostril is always a 
sign of strong vitality ; a pinched or contracted nostril 
denotes physical weakness. One nostril drawn up in- 
dicates disgust, contempt ; both nostrils drawn up is 
the bearing of a mean, evil-minded person. 

The mouth is the most expressive feature. Orators 
have large mouths as a rule. A small mouth shows a 
delicate, refined, but not powerful nature. We will 
consider the lips and lower jaw, which give the mouth 
its expression, separately. 

Thin lips are cold, unemotional ; thick, protruding 
lips are sensual, coarse. The lips drawn in indicate 
concentration, primness, severity ; protruded slightly 
they indicate affection ; they are protruded and con- 
tracted, much as in whistling, when we are exercising 
the judgment, discrimination. The pout is a rejection 
by the lips ; in great disgust we act precisely as if we 
were trying to get rid of a disagreeable substance in 
the mouth. The lips drawn down at the corners indi- 
cate sadness, disappointment, melancholy ; the corners 
are drawn up in pleasurable emotions. One side of 



152 THIRTY-EIGHTH LESSON. 

the lip drawn up corresponds to and accompanies the 
contemptuous action of the nose. 

A strong lower jaw shows strength, firmness of 
character ; a receding jaw, weakness. The jaw is set 
firmly in self-control, resistance, antagonism ; it relaxes 
in pleasure, and opens in admiration, surprise, fear 
and terror. It hangs lifelessly in weakness, prostra- 
tion, imbecility, despair. The jaw advances in threat- 
ening, anger, hatred. 

Observe that almost all the conditions described in 
this lesson may be bearings, indicating various types 
of character. Do not be too hasty in judging your as- 
sociates by these hints ; there are sometimes strange 
exceptions to general rules. Socrates, for instance, 
one of the greatest and noblest of all men, was in ap- 
pearance almost repulsive. We may do much to over- 
come natural defects by the exercise of the will, and 
many men have conquered inborn tendencies of the 
most unlovely character while still retaining the 
stamp that nature placed on them at birth. So, many 
naturally symmetrical natures have allowed themselves 
to be warped out of all true moral poise, and yet to 
the superficial observer have lost little of their exter- 
nal beauty. Remember that " 'tis the mind that 
makes the body rich" or poor, as the case may be. 

To the Teacher :— The pupils should work out the facial ex- 
pression of a giveu emotion, say surprise, indicating, the ex- 
pression of each part, then adding the proper attitudes or 
actions of the torso and limbs. More advanced pupils may- 
employ themselves with complex emotions, such as surprise with 
hatred, with fear, with joy; joy with humility, affection, arro- 



FACIAL EXPRESSION. 163 

gance, and the almost infinite number of similar combina- 
tions. My purpose in reserving the consideration of this sub- 
ject until the last (and, indeed, I had some doubts as to the 
advisability of saying as much as I have on the subject), is 
that untrained pupils are very apt to overdo facial expression 
if they undertake it at all in the beginning. I have felt that 
these subtile manifestations would develop themselves nat- 
urally in connection with the broader phases of gesture and 
attitude previously discussed, provided those have been 
accompanied by the proper inward impulse, without which 
no expression, however studied, seems spontaneous. I have 
inserted this matter at the request of several teachers whose 
experience has differed from mine in this respect, and who 
find that many of their pupils have no facial expression at 
all. But I implore all teachers to be exceedingly careful to 
discourage the writhings of the lips, scowls, affected eleva- 
tions of the brows, and fine-frenzy-rolling eyes, with which 
so many would-be dramatic readers afflict their unfortunate 
audiences. 



EXAMPLES FOR FACIAL EXPRESSION. 

The one with yawning made reply : 
"What have we seen ? — Not much have I ! 
Trees, meadows, mountains, groves and streams, 
Blue sky and clouds and sunny gleams." 
The other, smiling, said the same ; 
But with face transfigured and eye of flame : 
"Trees, meadows, mountains, groves and streams! 
Blue sky and clouds and sunny gleams! " — Brooks 

But hush ! hark ! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell 

Did ye not hear it ? No ; 'twas but the wind, 

Or the car rattling o'er the stony street; 

On with the dance ! Let joy be unconfined ; 

No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet, 

To chase the glowing hours with flying feet — 

But, hark ! — that heavy sound breaks m once more. 

As if the clouds its echo would repeat ; 

And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before ! 

Arm ! arm ! It is — it is the cannon's opening roar ! — Byron. 



154 THIRTY-EIGHTH LESSON. 

Prop yer eyes wide open, Joey, 

Fur I've brought you sumpin great. 
Apples ? No, a heap sight better ! 

Don't you take no int'rest ? Wait ! 
Flowers, Joe — I know'd you'd like 'em — 

Ain't them scrumptious ? Ain't them high ? 
Tears, my boy ? Wot's them fur, Joey ? 

There — poor little Joe !— don't cry \—Peleg Arkwright. 

We are two travellers, Roger and I. 

Roger's my dog. Come here, you scamp. 
Jump for the gentlemen — mind your eye ! 

Over the table— look out for the lamp ! 
The rogue is growing a little old : 

Five years we've tramped through wind and weather, 
And slept out doors when nights were cold, 

And ate, and drank, and starved together. 

We've learned what comfort is, I tell you : 

A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, 
A fire to thaw our thumbs (poor fellow, 

The paw he holds up there has been frozen), 
Plenty of catgut for my fiddle 

( This out-door business is bad for strings), 
Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle, 

And Roger and I set up for kings. 

No, thank you, sir, I never drink. 

Roger and I are exceedingly moral, 
Aren't we, Roger ? See him wink. 

Well, something hot then, we won't quarrel. 
He's thirsty, too — see him nod his head. 

What a pity, sir, that dogs can't talk ; 
He understands every word that's said, 

And he knows good milk from water and chalk. 

— Trowbridge, " The Vagabonds." 

SH^Oce {aside}. How like a fawning nublican he looks ! 
I hate him. for he is a Christian ! 
If I can catch him once upon the hip 
I will feed fat the ancient grudge I bear him. 
Cursed be my tribe 



DESCRIPTION, 155 

If I forgive him ! 

[To Antonio.] Eest you fair, good signior ; 

Your worship was the last man in our mouths. 

— Shakespeare. 

Macbeth. Didst thou not hear a noise ? 

Lady Macbeth. I heard the owl scream, and the crickets cry. 
Did not you speak ? 
Macb. When ? 
Lady M. Now. 
Macb. As I descended ? 
Lady M. Ay. 

Macb. Hark ! "Who lies i' the second chamber ? 
Lady M. Donalbain. — Shakespeare. 



LESSOH XXXIX. 



Description. 



Pantomime has another office besides expressing 
emotions; it is very useful in assisting us to convey 
vivid impressions of what we may be describing. This 
function is called imitation or description. Gestures 
of indication are descriptive in their character. We 
convey impressions of great size, volume, majesty, by 
broad expansion of the arms; we bring the tips of 
the fingers of both hands near together to describe 
small, insignificant objects ; when using one hand, the 
thumb touching the little finger suggests very tiny 
objects. 



156 THIRTY-NINTH LESSON. 

Actions that we call functional, like pushing, pull- 
ing, hammering, twisting, the action of the hand in 
writing, playing an instrument, waving a handker- 
chief, and a hundred others, are used imitatively. 

The tremolo of the hand — that is, a rapid movement 
to and fro sideways — suggests many similar tremu- 
lous movements in nature, the ripple of water, of sun- 
shine, the movement of the leaves. The tremolo 
should be very delicate, and requires much flexibility 
at the wrist. 

All emotional manifestations are used imitatively 
when we describe an emotion in another. Descrip- 
tive actions of all kinds must not be overdone. Broad 
description is allowable only in comedy. In serious 
reading suggest rather than imitate: the more delicate 
the suggestion the more artistic will be your expres- 
sion. 

The voice also has an imitative function. All re- 
productions of peculiar qualities, as of an old man's 
voice, nasal, throaty, or flat tones, the vocal character- 
istics of different nations and races, are vocal imita- 
tions. The volume of the voice is sometimes made 
use of imitatively, the tone becoming more sonorous 
in describing grandeur, majesty, and more than usu- 
allv delicate in suggesting delicate things. TVe often 
hear vocal imitations of various sounds in nature, the 
calls of animals, chirping of birds, the vibration of 
bells, and the like. Use imitation sparingly. 

It is very essential in description, as, indeed, in all 



DESCRIPTION. 157 

recitation, that you yourself see vividly the picture or 
scene that you wish to portray. Cultivate your im- 
agination until each object and person in your story 
appears as clearly before your mind's eye as if you 
had at some time actually seen them. You should be 
able to describe the dress and peculiarities of appear- 
ance of a character even in many details that the au- 
thor has not suggested, and fill out the barest outline 
of a scene with mountains, trees, houses, furniture, or 
whatever would be appropriate to it. Have, too, a 
definite locality for everything in your picture. Do 
.not place a thing at your left that a moment before 
was at your right, nor one at your feet that was just 
now a hundred yards away. Bear in mind, however, 
that whenever you, as spectator, are supposed to 
change your position, everything in the picture also 
changes its position relative to you. For instance, 
in the opening lines of " Barbara Frietchie " the 
spectator describes the village of Frederick and its 
surroundings from an imaginary distance of several 
miles, but soon he finds himself in the village itself. 
Generally when one person takes two characters, as 
would be done in reciting the tent scene in " Julius 
Csesar," it is customary to indicate the change from 
one character to the other by a change in the direction 
of attention ; that is, if Brutus is speaking toward the 
left, Cassius, who is supposed to be on that side of the 
platform, would speak, when his turn came, toward 
the right. In impersonation, as in reciting dialogues, 



158 THIRTY-NINTH LESSON 

we do not speak to the audience, but to the imaginary 
Brutus or Cassius, a little to one side. In descriptive 
recitation, narrative or address, we keep the attention 
directed toward the audience, simply glancing at the 
objects or persons described, and looking back at once 
toward the audience, but sustaining the gesture, if any 
is used, until the verbal description is complete. We 
have said that an attitude of the body should always be 
sustained until the emotion prompting it is superseded 
by another emotion ; so a gesture, which, if sustained at 
all, becomes at once an attitude, is subject to the 
same law. 

Be careful to locate objects and persons at the side 
rather than directly in front, where your audience is. 
An angle of from thirty to forty-five degrees to the 
right or left is usually the most convenient one for 
descriptive purposes. 



To the Teacher :— Descriptive expression is valuable, both 
as a means of developing imagination and of giving 
command of gesture, but should not be carried too far. 
A very common fault with readers is the too frequent 
use of descriptive expression in emotional passages. The 
more ideal the poem, or the greater the strength of the 
subjective element, the further should be the expression 
from the literal. In recitation or oratory, pantomime of any 
sort should be reserved always for that which the words 
cannot fully express ; otherwise it is an impertinence. Any- 
thing in voice or action that distracts the attention of the 
audience from the matter to the manner defeats the purpose 
of the speaker. There is, however, an emotional manner of 
performing a descriptive or a functional action that may 
redeem it from the appearance of artificiality, but the consid- 
eration of such delicate points of expression is out of place in 
this manual. 



DESCRIPTION. 159 

EXAMPLES OF DESCRIPTION AND SUGGESTION. 

Though rudely blows the wintry blast, 
And sifting snows fall white and fast, 
Mark Haley drives along the street, 
Perched high upon his wagon seat : 
His sombre face the storm defies ; 
And thus from morn till eve he cries— 

" Charco' ! charco' ! " 
While echo faint and far replies — 
"Charco' ! "— " hark O ! "—Such cheery sounds 
Attend him on his daily rounds. — Trowbridge. 

A million little diamonds twinkled on the trees ; 
A million little maidens said: " A jewel, if you please." 
But while they held their hands outstretched to catch the dia- 
monds gay, 
A million little sunbeams came and stole them all away. 

Under his slouched hat left and right 

He glanced ; the old flag met his sight. 

"Halt! " — the dust-brown ranks sto6d fast; 

"Fire ! " — out blazed the rifle -blast. 

It shivered the window, pane and sash, 

It rent the banner with seam and gash. 

Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, 

Dame Barbara snatched the silken scarf. 

She leaned far out un the window-sill, 

And shook it forth with a royal will.— Whittier. 

I want free life and I want fresh air ; 
And I sigh for the canter after the cattle, 
The crack of the whips like shots in battle, 
The melee of horns, and hoofs, and heads, 
That wars and wrangles and scatters and spreads; 
The green beneath and the blue above, 
And dash and danger and life and love— 
And Lasca \—Desprez. 



1 60 THIR TY-NINTH LESSON. 

Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows, 

And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows ; 

But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, 

The hoarse, rough verse should like the torrent roar. 

— Pope, 

Collecting, projecting, receding and speeding, 
And shocking and rocking, and darting and parting, 
And threading and spreading, and whizzing and hissing, 
And dripping and skipping, and hitting and splitting, 
And shining and twining, and rattling and battling, 
And shaking and quaking, and pouring and roaring, 
And waving and raving, and tossing and crossing, 
And flowing and going, and running and stunning, 
And foaming and roaming, and dinning and spinning, 
And dropping and hopping, and working and jerking, 
And guggling and struggling, and heaving and cleaving, 
And moaning and groaning; 

And glittering and flittering, and gathering and feathering, 
And whitening and brightening, and quivering and shivering, 
And hurrying and skurrying, and thundering and floundering; 

Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting, 

Delaying and straying and playing and spraying, 

Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing, 

Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling, 

And gleaming, and streaming and steaming and beaming, 

And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping, 

And curling and whirling and purling and twirling, 

And thumping and pumping and bumping and jumping, 

And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing ; 

And so never ending, but always descending, 

Sounds and motions forever and ever are blending, 

All at once and all o'er, with a mighty uproar, 

And this way the water comes down at Lodore. — Southey. 

Then the hangman drew near, an' the people grew still, 
Young faces turned sickly, an' warm hearts turned chill ; 



DESCRIPTION, 161 

An' the rope bein' ready, his neck was made bare 

For the gripe iv the life-strangling cord to prepare ; 

An' the good priest has left him, havin' said his last prayer. 

But the good priest done more, for his hands he unbound, 

An' with one darin' spring Jim has leaped on the ground ; 

Bang ! bang ! goes the carbines, an' clash goes the sabres ! 

He's not down ! he's alive, still ! now stand to him, neighbors ! 

Through the smoke an' the horses he's into the crowd — 

By the heavens, he's free! — than thunder more loud, 

By one shout from the people the heavens were shaken — 

One shout that the dead of the world might awaken. 

The sodgers ran this way, the sheriffs ran that, 

An' Father Malone lost his new Sunday hat ; 

To-night he'll be sleepin' in Aherloe glin, 

An' the divil's in the dice if you catch him ag'in. 

Your swords they may glitter, your carbines go bang, 

But if you want hangin', it's yourself you must hang. 

— J. S. Lefanu. 

There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, 
chirp ! Cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum — m — m ! Kettle 
making play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, 
chirp! Cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum — m — m! 
Kettle sticking to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. 
Chirp, chirp, chirp! Cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, 
hum— m— m! Kettle slow and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp! 
Cricket going in to finish him. Hum, hum, hum — m — m ! Kettle 
not to be finished. Until at last, they got so jumbled together, 
in the hurry-scurry, helter-skelter of the match, that whether 
the Kettle chirped and the Cricket hummed, or the Cricket 
chirped and the Kettle hummed, or they both chirped and both 
hummed, it would have taken a clearer head than yours or mine 
to decide with anything like certainty. — Dickens. 

Just then I heard somebody a long way off say, "Whip poor 
Will!" "Bedad!" sez I, "I'm glad it isn't Jamie that's got to 
take it, though it seems it's more in sorrow than in anger they 
are doin' it, or why should they say, ' poor Will ? ' An' sure they 
can't be Injin, haythin, or naygur, for it's plain English they're 
afther spakin'. Maybe they might help me out o' this," so I 



162 FORTIETH LESSON. 

shouted at the top of my voice, "A lost man!" Thin I listened. 
Prisently an answer came : 

' ' Who ? Whoo ? Whooo ? " 

"Jamie Butler, the waiver! " sez I, as loud as I could roar, an' 
snatchin' up me bundle an' stick, I started in the direction of the 
voice.— Jimmie Butler and the Owl. 

It is not growing like a tree 

In bulk, doth make man better be ; 

Or standing long an oak (three hundred year), 

To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sear ; 
A lily of a day 
Is fahvr far in May. 
Although it fall and die that night- 
It was the plant and flower of light. 

In small proportions we just beauties see; 

And in short measures life may perfect be. — Ben Jonson 

He clasps the crag with hooked hands : 
Close to the sun in lonely lands, 
Ringed with tin- azure world, he stands. 

The wrinkled sea beneath him crawls ; 
He watches from his mountain walls, 
And like a thunderbolt he falls. 

— Tennyson, " The Eagle." 



LESSOH XL. 



Kinal Hints on Attitudes and Bearings. 



The feet are near together in timidity and weakness ; 
they are separated in active, strong conditions. 

The kxees are relaxed in submission, weakness, fear, 
horror ; they are normally firm in normal conditions ; 
they stiffen in defiance. 

The hips thrown forward indicate pomposity, arro- 



ATTITUDES AND BEARINGS. 



163 



gance, vulgarity ; drawn back they indicate humility, 
timidity. 

The chest expanded denotes strength, activity, no- 
bility of mind ; contracted, indicates weakness, either 
of soul or of body, or of both. 

The attitudes of the head have been fully discussed 
in previous lessons. 

The aems, in repose, fall naturally at the sides 
when standing, or in the lap when sitting. The hands 
may also be carelessly locked together in front, or 
one or both arms allowed to rest easily on the read- 
ing-desk, table, or arm of the chair. 
The arms are folded in front in concen- 
tration of thought or emotion, control 
of passion ; one or both are behind the 
back in concealment, reflection. If you 
fold the arms easily and then raise the 
forearm that is on the outside, so that 
the hand is at the lips, or the chin or 
side of the cheek rest upon it, you 
have another attitude of reflection or 
concentration of mind that is very 
common (Fig. 35). Practise going into 
this attitude without the .preliminary 
fold of the arms, as soon as you have fig. 35. 

acquired the correct position. 

The elbow turned out indicates arrogance, self-as- 
sertion, conceit; with the hands on the hips these 
indications are very marked and generally vulgar. 




164 FORTIETH LESSON. 

The elbow drawn in indicates weakness, timidity, 
fear. 

The normal attitude of the hand is that which it as- 
sumes when at rest. The hand expands gently in af- 
fectionate expressions, as if to caress someone. It 
opens wide in astonishment, admiration, fear and re- 
pulsion. The fingers contract in hatred, jealousy, and 
like passions, as if you would like to tear the flesh of 
your antagonist. The hand is clinched firmly in con- 
centration of mind or passion, in rage. The fingers 
work spasmodically when there is an attempt to con- 
ceal strong passions fcha overpower the will. 

The body is bent and passive in weakness, submis- 
sion, meanness, old age; it is erect and active in all 
vigorous conditions of mind or body. 

Laws of Attitude. — Continued. 

III. — An attitude remains unchanged until the 
emotion that caused it is superseded or modified by 
a new emotion. 

Notice that one attitude of a particular part, for ex- 

ample, the clinched list, often stands for quite differ- 
ent conditions. These conditions are shown by other 
parts of the body. For instance, the clinched fist 
with the body in an attitude of reflection — that is, with 
the weight on the retired foot, head bowed and thought- 
ful expression of the face — would indicate strong men- 
tal concentration, while the same fist with the body 
expressing antagonism would convey the impression 



ATTITUDES AND BEARINGS. 165 

that someone in our vicinity was in clanger of a bruised 
eye at least. 

Try to have harmony everywhere in your attitudes ; 
do not let one part of the body contradict another. 

To the Teacher: — The practice of dialogues is a very useful 
means of giving pupils confidence and ease before an audi- 
ence. The study of the bearings and attitudes suitable to dif- 
ferent characters in a scene or dialogue is also excellent mental 
discipline, as it cultivates the powers of observation and analy- 
sis. The few hints given above, together with previous instruc- 
tion in attitude, gesture, and facial expression, will be found to 
suggest a very wide range of expression in characterization. No 
attempt has been made in this book to cover the whole ground 
in any department of oratory. Especially is this true of pan- 
tomimic expression, a field that has been very thoroughly ex- 
plored of late years, and concerning which volumes might be 
written. If it seems, nevertheless, that an undue proportion of 
our work has been devoted to pantomime and physical prepara- 
tion for it, it should be borne in mind that the relation between 
pantomimic and vocal expression is much closer than is com- 
monly supposed, and that effective action inevitably reacts in 
favor cf effective speech, and is more easily studied and 
criticised, since the theory of vocal expression, spite of all our 
gains in the last twenty years, is far from the perfection that 
pantomime has attained. The laws of the one apply to the olher, 
to be sure ; but their application is much more difficult in the 
department of vocal expression. Freedom of action means 
freedom of speech. 




SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE 



INTRODUCTION. 



The following selections have been made for the pur- 
pose of furnishing a more extended application of the 
principles that have been discussed in the preceding les- 
sons. Lessons I., II., and III. are all to be used in 
conjunction with Lesson III. in the Primer. From that 
point the numbers in both parts correspond. 

The intelligent teacher will at once perceive that in 
following this plan of progressive study (corresponding 
to the use of etudes in music) much that is essential to a 
proper rendition of even the simplest of the earlier selec- 
tions must necessarily be ignored; but ir is impossible to 
avoid this without confusing the beginner with techni- 
calities with which he i- yet unfamiliar. By confining 
the attention to one new point at a time, however, each 
will be made clear, while there will he a gradual accu- 
mulation of a systematized body of knowledge, and a 
corresponding assimilation of the technical requirements 
of more complex and difficult selections, as well as 
what, after all. should he the chief aim in elocutionary 
study — the worthy expression of his own ideas. To 
avoid monotony, these studies should be supplemented 
by studies of a similar grade, such as may be found in 
standard text-books of reading and recitation. 

Finally, it should never be forgotten that technique is, 
after all, but the dry bones of art, and that the proper 
rendition of even the simplest selection requires a perfect 
comprehension of the author's thought and the constant 
exercise of the student's powers of imagination. 

F. TOWXSEXD SOUTHWICK. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 167 

LESSOH I. 



The Prodigal Son. 



[Tell the story simply, being especially careful to speak to your audience, 
raising the eyes from, the hook, as directed in Lesson III. At first you will 
have to take more time for this than is necessary for expression; hut con- 
sider that the beginner in any art must practise slowly until he gains 
facility, and that a perfectly natural manner of reading can be attained in 
no other way.] 

A certain man had two sons : and the younger of them said to 
his father, ' ' Father, give me the portion of thy substance that 
falleth to me. " And he divided unto them his living. 

And not many days after the younger son gathered all together, 
and took his journey into a far country: and there he wasted his 
substance with riotohs living. 

And when he had spent all, there arose a mighty famine in 
that country ; and he began to be in want. And he went and 
joined himself to one of the citizens in that country ; and he sent 
him into his fields to feed swine. 

And he fain would have been filled with the husks that the 
swine did eat ; and no man gave unto him. But when he came 
to himself he said, "How many hired servants of my father's 
have bread enough and to spare, and I perish from hunger ! I will 
arise and go to my father, and say unto him, ' Father, I have 
sinned against heaven and in thy sight : I am no more worthy to 
be called thy son : make me as one of thy hired servants. ' " 

And he arose, and came to his father. But while he was yet 
afar off, his father saw him, and was moved with compassion, 
and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him. 

And the son said unto him, "Father, I have sinned against 
heaven, and in thy sight : I am no more worthy to be called thy 
son ! " 

But the father said to his servants, ' ' Bring forth quickly the 
best robe, and put it on him ; and put a ring on his hand and 
shoes on his feet ; and bring the fatted calf, and kill it, and let us 
eat and make merry: for this my son was dead, and is alive 
again; he was lost, and is found." And they began to be merry. 

Now his elder son was in the field : and as he came and drew 



168 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. And he called to 
him one of the servants, and inquired what these things might 
be. And he said unto him, "Thy brother is come; and thy 
father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him 
safe and sound. " 

But he was angry, and would not go in : and his father came 
out and entreated. But he answered and said to his father, ' ' Lo, 
these many years do I serve thee, and I never transgressed a 
commandment of thine : and yet thou never gavest me a kid, 
that I might make merry with my friends : but when this thy son 
came, which hath devoured thy living, thou killedst for him the 
fatted calf." 

And he said unto him, " Son, thou art ever with me, and all that 
is mine is thine. But it was meet to make merry and be glad : for 
this thy brother was dead, is alive again ; was lost, and is found. " 
— Neiv Testament. 



LESSOR II. 



Hamlet's Instruction to tine Players. 



[Study in phrasing.] 

Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounced it to you — trip- 
pingly on the tongue; but if you mouth it, as many of our 
players do, I had as lief the town-crier spake my lines. Nor do 
not saw the air too much with your hand, thus; but use all 
gently: for in the very torrent, tempest, and, as I may say, 
whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a tem- 
perance, that may give it smoothness. Oh ! it offends me to the 
soul, to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to 
tatters— to very rags— to split the ears of the groundlings: who, 
for the most part, are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb 
shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipped for o'er- 
doing Termagant : * it out-herods Herod. Pray you, avoid it. 

Be not too tame, neither, but let your own discretion be your 

* Termagant, the fiend, and Herod, were evil characters in the popular 
'•miracle plays." They were acted in a most boisterous manner. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 169 

tutor. Suit the action to the word; the word to the action; with 
this special observance — that you o'erstep not the modesty of nature : 
for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing ; whose 
end, both at the first and now, was, and is, to hold, as 'twere, the 
mirror up to nature ; — to show virtue her own feature ; scorn her 
own image ; and the very age and body of the time his form and 
pressure. Now this, overdone or come tardy off, though it make 
the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious grieve; the 
censure of which one, must, in your allowance, o'erweigh a 
whole theatre of others. Oh ! there be players, that I have seen 
play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it 
profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the 
gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed, 
that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made 
men, and not made them well — they imitated humanity so abom- 
inably. — Shakespeare. 



LESSOH III. 



The Duel. 



[For avoiding " sing-song " style of delivery.] 

In Brentford town, of old renown, there lived a Mr. Bray, 
Who fell in iove with Lucy Bell, and so did Mr. Clay. 
Said Mr. Bray to Mr. Clay: " You choose to rival me, 
And court Miss Bell, but there your court no thoroughfare shall 
be. 

" Unless you now give up your suit, you may repent your love; 
I, who have shot a pigeon match, can shoot a turtle dove. 
So pray, before yoft woo her more, consider what you do ; 
If you pop aught to Lucy Bell— I'll pop it into you." 

Said Mr. Clay to Mr. Bray: "Your threats I quite explode ; 
One who has been a volunteer knows how to prime and load. 
And so I say to you, unless your passion quiet keeps, 
I, who have shot and hit bulls' eyes, may chance to hit a sheep's.*' 



170 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Now gold is oft for silver changed, and that for copper red ; 
But these two went away to give each other change for lead. 
But first they sought a friend apiece, this pleasant thought to 

give- 
When they were dead, they thus should have two seconds still to 

live. 

To measure out the ground not long the seconds then forbore, 
And having taken one rash step, they took a dozen more. 
They next prepared each pistol-pan against the deadly strife, 
By putting in the prime of death against the prime of life. 

Now all was ready for the foes; but when they took their stands, 
Fear made them tremble, so they found they both were shaking 

hands. 
Said Mr. C. to Mr. B. : " Here one of us .may fall, 
And, like St. Paul's Cathedral now, be doomed to have a ball. 

" I do confess I did attach misconduct to your name; 

If I withdraw the charge, will then your ramrod do the same V" 

Said Mr. B. : " I do agree — but think of Honor's Courts! 

If we go off without a shot there will be strange reports. 

" But look, the morning now is bright, though cloudy it begun ; 
Why can't we aim above, as if we had called out the sun ? " 
So up into the harmless air their bullets they did send : 
And may all other duels have that upshot in the end I 

— Thomas Hood. 



lessoe: ym. 



Charge of trie Ligrit Brigade 



Half a league, half a league, 
Half a league onward, 

All in the valley of death 
Rode the six hundred. 

"Forward, the Light Brigade! 

Charge for the guns! " he said: 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 171 

Into the valley of death 
Rode the six hundred. 

" Forward, the Light Brigade! " 
Was there a man dismayed ? 
Not though the soldiers knew 

Someone had blundered ! 
Theirs not to make reply ; 
Theirs not to reason why; 
Theirs but to do and die: 
Into the valley of death 

Rode the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon in front of them 

Volleyed and thundered: 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
Boldly they rode and well; 
Into the jaws of death, 
Into the mouth of hell, 

Rode the six hundred. 

Flashed all their sabres bare, 
Flashed as they turned in air, 
Sabring the gunners there, 
Charging an army, while 

All the world wondered ! 
Plunged in the battery-smoke, 
, Right through the line they broke: 
Cossack and Russian 
Reeled from the sabre-stroke, 

Shattered and sundered. 
Then they rode back ; but not — 

Not the six hundred. 

Cannon to right of them, 
Cannon to left of them, 
Cannon behind them 



172 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Volleyed and thundered : 
Stormed at with shot and shell, 
While horse and hero fell, 
They that had fought so well 
Came through the jaws of death 
Back from the mouth of hell, 
ill that was left of them — 

Left of six hundred. 

When can their glory fade ? 
Oh, the wild charge they made I 

All the world wondered. 
Honor the charge they made ! 
Honor the Light Brigade — 

Noble six hundred !— Tennyson. 






LESSOH Y. 



The Discontented Pendulum. 



[Study in phrasing and emphasis.] 

An old clock, that had stood for fifty years in a farmer's 
kitchen, without giving its owner any cause of complaint, early 
one summer's morning, before the family was stirring, suddenly 
stopped. LTpon this, the dial-plate (if we may credit the fable) 
changed countenance with alarm ; the hands made a vain effort 
to continue their course; the wheels remained motionless with 
surprise ; the weights hung speechless ; each member felt disposed 
to lay the blame on the others. At length the dial instituted a 
formal inquiry as to the cause of the stagnation ; when hands, 
wheels, weights, with one voice protested their innocence. 

But now a faint tick was heard below from the pendulum, who 
thus spoke : "I confess myself to be the sole cause of the present 
stoppage ; and I am willing, for the general satisfaction, to assign 
my reasons. The truth is, that I am tired of ticking. " Upon 
hearing this, the old clock became so enraged that it was on the 
very point of striking. 






SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. lid 

"Lazy wire!" exclaimed, the dial-plate, holding up its hands. 
"Very good ! " replied the pendulum, " it is vastly easy for you, 
Mistress Dial, who have always, as everybody knows, set yourself 
up above me— it is vastly easy for you, I say, to accuse other 
people of laziness ! — you, who have had nothing to do all the days 
of your life but to stare people in the face, and to amuse your- 
self with watching all that goes on in the kitchen ! Think, I 
beseech you, how you would like to be shut up for life in this 
dark closet, and to wag backward and forward, year after year, 
as I do. " 

"As to that," said the dial, "is there not a window in your 
house on purpose for you to look through?" " For all that,"" 
resumed the pendulum, "it is very dark here; and, although 
there is a window, I dare not stop, even for an instant, to look 
out at it. Besides, I am really tired of my way of lif e ; and, if 
you wish, I'll tell you how I took this disgust at my employment. 
I happened this morning to be calculating how many times I 
should have to tick in the course of only the next twenty-four 
hours ; perhaps some of you, above there, can give me the exact 
sum." 

The minute-hand, being quick at figures, presently replied: 
" Eighty -six thousand, four hundred times." 

"Exactly so," replied the pendulum; "well, I appeal to you 
all, if the very thought of this was not enough to fatigue one ; 
and when I began to multiply the strokes of one day by those of 
months and years, really it is no wonder if I felt discouraged at 
the prospect ; and so, after a great deal of reasoning and hesita- 
tion, thinks I to myself I'll stop." 

The -dial could scarcely keep its countenance during this ha- 
rangue; but, resuming its gravity, thus replied: "Dear Mr. 
Pendulum, I am really astonished that such a useful, industrious 
person as yourself should have been overcome by this sudden 
inaction. It is true you have done a great deal of work in your 
time ; so have we all, and are likely to do ; which, although it 
may fatigue us to think of, the question is, whether it will fatigue 
us to do. Would you now do me the favor to give about half a 
dozen strokes, to illustrate my argument ? " 

The pendulum complied, and ticked six times in its usual pace. 



174 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

" Now," resumed the dial, "may I be allowed to inquire if that 
exertion was at all fatiguing or disagreeable to you ?" " Not in 
the least," replied the pendulum; " it is not of six strokes that I 
complain, nor of sixty, but of millions." " Very good, " replied 
the dial; " but recollect, that though you may think of a million 
strokes in an instant, you are required to execute but one; and 
that, however often you may hereafter have to swing, a moment 
will always be given you to swing in. " 

"That consideration staggers me, I confess," said the pen- 
dulum. 

" Then I hope," resumed the dial-plate, " we shall all immedi 
ately return to our duty ; for the maids will lie in bed if we stand 
idling thus." 

Upon this, the weights, who had never been accused of light 
conduct, used all their influence in urging him to proceed; when, 
as with one consent, the wheels began to turn, the hands began 
to move, the pendulum began to swing, and, to its credit, ticked 
as loud as ever ; while a red beam of the rising sun, that streamed 
through a hole in the kitchen, shining full upon the dial-plate, it 
brightened up, as if nothing had been the matter. 

When the farmer came down to breakfast that morning, upon 
looking at the clock, he declared that his watch had gained half 
an hour in the night. — Jane Taylor. 



LESSOH YI. 



1 r ne Wind and tire Moon. 



[Study of the animated, colloquial manner and varied methods of emphasis.l 
Said the Wind to the Moon, ' ' I will blow you out ; 
You stare 
In the air 
Like a ghost in a chair, * 

* Phrase this carefully to avoid monotony of melody: " You stare | in the 
air like a ghost \ in a chair.''' So also similar passages in the other stanzas. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 175 

Always looking what I am about — 

I hate to be watched; I'll blow you out."* 

The Wind blew hard, and out went the Moon. 

So, deep 

On a heap 

Of clouds to sleep, 
Down lay the Wind, and slumbered soon, 
Muttering low, "I've done for that Moon." 

He turned in his bed ; she was there again ! 

On high 

In the sky, 

With her one ghost eye, 
The Moon shone white and alive and plain. 
Said the Wind, "I will blow you out again." 

The Wind blew hard, and the Moon grew dim. 
"With my sledge, 
And my wedge, 
I have knocked off her edge ! 
If only I blow right fierce and grim, 
The creature will soon be dimmer than dim. " 

He blew and he blew, and she thinned to a thread. 

"One puff 

More's enough 

To blow her to snuff ! 
One good puff more where the last was bred, 
And glimmer, glimmer, glum will go the thread. " 

He blew a great blast, and the thread was gone. 

In the air 

Nowhere 

Was a moonbeam bare ; 
Far off and harmless the shy stars shone — 
Sure and certain the Moon was gone 1 

♦Notice that here and whenever the Wind speaks we should have a bluster- 
ing, explosive emphasis. Why J 






176 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

The Wind he took to his revels once more; 

On down, 

In town, 

Like a merry-mad clown, 
He leaped and hallooed with whistle and roar — 
' ' What's that ? " The glimmering thread once more 1 

He flew in a rage — he danced and blew ; 

But in vain 

Was the pain 

Of his bursting brain ; 
For still the broader the Moon-scrap grew, 
The broader he swelled his big cheeks and blew. 

Slowly she grew — till she filled the night, 

And shone 

On her throne 

In the sky alone, 
A matchless, wonderful, silvery light, 
Radiant and lovely, the queen of the night. 

Said the Wind : ' ■ What a marvel of power am I ! 

With my breath, 

Good faith, 

I blew her to death — 
First blew her away right out of the sky- 
Then blew her in ; what strength have I ! " 

But the Moon she knew nothing about the affair ; 

For high 

In the sky, 

With her one white eye,* 
Motionless, miles above the air, 
She had never heard the great Wind blare. 

— George Tslacdonald. 

*Contrast by your manner of speaking, the calm Moon with the noisy 
Wind. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 177 

LESSOH YII. 



Dedication of Gettysburg Cemetery. 



[Study in oratorical address. Speak as if to a large audience but without 
departing from the melody of conversation.] 

Fourscore and seven years ago, our fathers brought forth upon 
this continent a new nation, conceived in liberty and dedicated to 
the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are en- 
gaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation — or any 
nation so conceived and so dedicated — can long endure. 

We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We are met to 
dedicate a portion of it as the final resting-place of those who 
have given their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether 
fitting and proper that we should do this. 

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot conse- 
crate, we cannot hallow, this ground. The brave men, living 
and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our 
power to add or to detract. The world will very little note nor 
long remember what we say here ; but it can never forget what 
they did here. 

It is for us, the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the un- 
finished work they have thus far so nobly carried on. It is 
rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining be- 
fore us ; that from these honored dead we take increased devotion 
to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of 
devotion ; that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not 
have died in vain; that the nation shall, under God, have a new 
birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the 
people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth. 

— Abraham Lincoln. 



178 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH VII —Continued. 



Brutus on the Death of Caesar. 



[Study in contrasted inflections and emphasis.] 

Romans, countrymen, and lovers ! hear me for my cause ; and 
be silent, that you may hear. Believe me for mine honor; and 
have respect to mine honor, that you may believe. Censure me 
in your wisdom; and awake your senses, that you may the 
better judge. If there be any in this assembly — any dear friend 
of Caesar's, — to him I say, that Brutus' love to Caesar was not less 
than his. If, thou, that friend demand why Brutus rose against 
Caesar, this is my answer : Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I 
loved Rome more. Had you rather Ca-sar were living, and die 
all slaves, than that Caesar were dead, to live all freemen? As 
3ar loved me, I weep for him; as he was fortunate, I rejoice 
at it; as he was valiant, I honor him; hut as he was ambitious, I 
slew him. There are tears for his love, joy for his fortune, honor 
for his valor, and death for his ambition. 

"Who is here so base, that would be a bondman ? If any, speak; 
for him have I offended. Who is here so rude, that would not 
be a Roman 1 If any, speak ; for him have I offended. Who is 
here so vile, that will not love his country ? If any, speak; for 
him have I offended. I pause for a reply. 

None ? Then none have I offended. I have done no more to 
Caesar than you shall do to Brutus. The question of his death is 
enrolled in the Capitol ; his glory not extenuated, wherein he was 
worthy ; nor his offences enforced, for which he suffered death. 

Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though 
he had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying 
— a place in the commonwealth, — as which of you shall not? 
With this I depart : That, as I slew my best lover for the good of 
Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please 
my country to need my death. — Shakespeare. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 179 

LESSOH YIIL 

The Star*Spangled Banner. 



O say, can you see, by the dawn's early light, 

What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming; 
Whose broad stripes and bright stars, through the perilous fight, 

O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming ? 
And the rockets' red glare, the bombs bursting in air, 
Gave proof through the night that our flag was still there ; 
O say, does that star-spangled banner yet wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave ? 

On the shore, dimly seen through the mists of the deep, 
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, 

What is that which the breeze o'er the towering steep, 
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses ? 

Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam ; 

Its full glory, reflected, now shines on the stream ; 

Tis the star-spangled banner, oh, long may it wave 

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

And where is the band who so vauntingly swore, 

'Mid the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, 
A home and a country they'd leave us no more ? 

Their blood hath washed out their foul footsteps' pollution , 
No refuge could save the hireling and slave 
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave ; 
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

Oh! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand 

Between our loved home and the war's desolation ; 
Blessed with victory and peace, may the heaven-rescued land 

Praise the power that hath made and preserved us a nation"; 
Then conquer we must, for our cause it is just, 
And this be our motto, " In God is our trust ; " 
And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave. 

— Francis Scott Key. 



180 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

lessoh: ix. 



Ttie Origin of Roast F»ig. 



Mankind, says a Chinese manuscript, for the first seventy 
thousand ages ate their meat raw, clawing or biting it from the 
living animal, just as they do in Abyssinia to this day. The 
manuscript goes on to say that the art of roasting, or rather 
broiling (which I take to be the elder brother), was accidentally 
discovered in the manner following: The swineherd, Ho-ti, having 
gone out into the woods one morning, left his cottage in the care 
of his eldest son, Bo-bo, a great, lubberly boy, who, being fond of 
playing with fire, let some sparks escape into a bundle of straw, 
which, kindling quickly, spread the conflagration over every part 
of their poor mansion, till it was reduced to ashes. Together 
with the cottage, a fine litter of m-w-f arrowed pigs, no less than 
nine in number, perished. Bo-bo was in the utmost consternation, 
as you may think, not so much for the sake of the tenement, 
which his father and he could easily build up again with a few 
dry biandi.-. and the labor of an hour or two, at any time, as 
for the loss of the pigs. "While he was thinking what he should 
say to his father, and wringing his hands over the smoking rem- 
nants of one of those untimely sufferers, an odor assailed his 
nostrils, unlike any scent which he had before experienced What 
could it proceed from ? Not from the burned cottage — he had 
smelt that smell before — indeed, this was by no means the first 
accident of the kind which had occurred through the negligence 
of this unlucky young fire-brand. Much less did it resemble that 
of any known herb, weed, or flower. He knew not what to think. 
He next stooped down to feel the pig, if there were any signs of 
life in it. He burned his fingers, and to cool them he applied 
them in his booby fashion to his mouth. Some of the crumbs of 
the scorched skin had come away with his fingers, and for the 
first time in his life (in the world's life, indeed, for before 
him no man had known it) he tasted crackling ! Again he 
felt and fumbled at the pig. It did not burn him so much 
now, still he licked his fingers from a sort of habit. The 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 181 

truth at length broke into his slow understanding that it was the 
pig that smelt so, and the pig that tasted so delicious ; and sur- 
rendering himself up to the new-born pleasure, he fell to tearing 
up whole handf uls of the scorched skin with the flesh next it, and 
was cramming it down his throat in his beastly fashion, when his 
sire entered amid the smoking rafters, and finding how affairs 
stood, began to rain blows upon the young rogue's shoulders, as 
thick as hailstones, which Bo-bo heeded not any more than if 
they had been flies. His father might lay on, but he could not 
beat him from his pig, till he had fairly made an end of it, when, 
becoming a little more sensible of his situation, something like 
the following dialogue ensued : 

'You graceless whelp, what have you got there devouring? Is 
it not enough that you have burned me down three houses with 
your dog's tricks, and be hanged to you ! but you must be eating 
fire, and I know not what — what have you got there, I say ? " 

"O father, the pig, the pig! do come and taste how nice the 
burnt pig eats ! " 

The ears of Ho-ti tingled with horror. He cursed his son, and 
he cursed himself that ever he should beget a son that should eat 
burnt pig. 

Bo-bo, whose scent was wonderfully sharpened since morning, 
soon raked out another pig, and fairly rending it asunder, thrust 
the lesser half by main force into the fists of Ho-ti, still shouting 
out, "Eat, eat, eat the burnt pig, father, only taste — O Lord!" — 
with such-like barbarous ejaculations, cramming all the while as 
if he would choke. 

Ho-ti trembled in every joint while he grasped the abominable 
thing, wavering whether he should not put his son to death for 
an unnatural young monster, when the crackling scorching his 
fingers, as it had done his son's, and applying the same remedy 
to them, he in his turn tasted some of its flavor, which, make 
what sour mouths he would for pretense, proved not altogether 
displeasing to him. In conclusion (for the manuscript here is a 
little tedious) both father and son fairly set down to the mess, 
and never left off till they had dispatched all that remained of 
the litter. 

Bo-bo was strictly enjoined not to let the secret escape, for the 



182 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

neighbors would certainly have stoned them for a couple of 
abominable wretches, who could think of improving upon the 
good meat which God had sent them. Nevertheless, strange 
stories got about. It was observed that Ho-ti's cottage was burnt 
down now more frequently than ever. Nothing but fires from 
this time forward. Some would break out in broad day, others 
in the night-time. As often as the sow farrowed, so sure was the 
house of Ho-ti to be in blaze; and Ho-ti himself, which was the 
more remarkable, instead of chastising his son, seemed to grow 
more indulgent to him than ever. At length they were watched, 
the terrible mystery discovered, and father and son summoned to 
take their trial at Pekin. Evidence was given, the obnoxious 
food itself produced in court, and verdict about to be pronounced, 
when the foreman of the jury begged that some of the burnt pig, 
of which the culprits stood accused, might be handed into the 
box. He handled it, and they all handled it ; and burning their 
fingers, as Bo-bo and his father had done before them, and 
nature prompting to each of them the same remedy, against the 
face of all the facts, and the clearest charge which judge had 
ever given — to the surprise of the whole court, townsfolk, 
strangers, reporters, and all present — without leaving the box, 
or any manner of consultation whatever, they brought in a 
simultaneous verdict of "not guilty.'' 

The judge, who was a shrewd fellow, winked at the manifest 
iniquity of the decision; and when the court was dismissed, went 
privily, and bought up all the pigs that could be had for love or 
money. In a few days his lordship's town-house was observed 
to be on fire. The thing took wing, and now there was nothing 
to be seen but fire in every direction. Fuel and pigs grew enor- 
mously dear all over the district. Thus this custom of firing 
houses continued, till in process of time, says my manuscript, a 
sage arose, who made a discovery, that the flesh of swine, or, 
indeed, of any other animal, might be cooked (burnt as they 
called it) without the necessity of consuming a whole house to 
dress it. Then first began the rude form of a gridiron. Roasting 
by the string or spit came in a century or two later, I forget in 
whose dynasty. By such slow degrees, concludes the manuscript, 
do the most useful, and seemingly the most obvious arts, make 
their way among mankind. — Charles Lavi&. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 183 

LESSOH X. 



Langley Lane. 



[A charming study for purity of tone.] 
In all the land, range up, range down, 

Is there ever a place so pleasant and sweet 
As Langley Lane in London town, 

Just out of the bustle of square and street ? 
Little white cottages, all in a row, 
Gardens where bachelor's-buttons grow, 

Swallows' nests in roof and wall, 
And up above the still blue sky 
Where the woolly white clouds go sailing by — 

I seem to be able to see it all ! 

For now, in summer, I take my chair, 

And sit outside in the sun, and hear 
The distant murmur of street and square, 

And the swallows and sparrows chirping near , 
And Fanny, who lives just over the way, 
Comes running many a time each day, 

With her little hand's touch so warm and kind ; 
And I smile and talk, with the sun on my cheek, 
And the little live hand seems to stir and speak,— - 

For Fanny is dumb, and I am blind. 

Fanny is sweet thirteen, and she 

Has fine black ringlets and dark eyes clear ; 
And I am older by summers three. 

Why should we hold one another so dear ? 
Because she cannot utter a word. 
Nor hear the music of bee or bird, 

The water-cart's splash or the milkman's call; 
Because I have never seen the sky, 
Nor the little singers that hum and fly, 

Yet know that she is gazing upon them all. 



184 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

For the sun is shining, the swallows fly, 

The "bees and the blue-flies murmur low; 
And I hear the water-cart go by, 

With its cool splash- splash, down the dusty row; 
And the little one close at my side perceives 
Mine eyes upraised to the cottage eaves, 

Where birds are chirping in summer shine, 
And I hear, though I cannot look ; and she, 
Though she cannot hear, can the singers see, — 

And the little soft fingers flutter in mine ! 

Hath not the dear little hand a tongue, 

When it stirs on my palm for the love of me ? 
Do I not know she is pretty and young v 

Hath not my soul an eye to see ? 
'Tis pleasure to make one's bosom stir, 
To wonder how things appear to her, 

That I only hear as they pass around; 
And as long as we sit in the music and light, 
She is happy I - keep l rod's sight, 

And I am happy to keep God's sound. 

Though if ever the Lord should grant me a prayer, 

(I know. the fancy is only vain ) 
I should pray just once, when the weather is fair, 

To see little Fanny, and Langley Lane ; 
Though Fanny, perhaps, would pray to hear 
The voice of the friend that she holds so dear, 

The song of the birds, the hum of the street, — 
It is better to be as we have been, 
Each keeping nap something unheard, unseen, 

To make God's heaven more strange and sweet. 

Ah, life is pleasant in Langley Lane ! 

There is always something sweet to hear, — 
Chirping of birds, or patter of rain, 

And Fanny, my little one, always near. 
And though I am weakly and can't live long, 
And Fanny, my darling, is far from strong, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. '185 

And though we can never married be, 
What then, since we hold one another so dear 
For the sake of the pleasure one cannot hear, 

And the pleasure that only one can see ? 

— Robert Buchanan. 



LESSOH XI. 

Adams and Jefferson. 



[Practise slowly, especially for distinct enunciation.] 
Adams and Jefferson, I have said, are no more. As human 
beings, indeed, they are no more. But how little is there of the 
great and good which can die ! To their country they yet live, 
and live forever. They live in their example ; and they live em- 
phatically, and will live in the influence which their lives and 
efforts, their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will con- 
tinue to exercise, on the affairs of men, not only in their own 
country, but throughout the civilized world. 

A superior and commanding human intellect, a truly great man 
— when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, — is not a temporary 
flame, burning bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place 
to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent heat, as 
well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the common mass 
of human mind ; so that, when it glimmers in its own decay, and 
finally goes out in death, no night follows, but it leaves the world 
all, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit. 

No two men now live — perhaps it may be doubted whether 
any two men have ever lived in one age — who, more than those 
we now commemorate, have impressed their own sentiments, in 
regard to politics and government, on mankind; infused their 
own opinions more deeply into the opinions of others ; or given 
a more lasting direction to the current of human thought. Their 
work doth not perish with them. The tree which they assisted to 
plant will flourish, although they water it and protect it no longer: 
for it has struck its roots deep ; it has sent them to the very cen- 



186 ' SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 

tre; no storm, not of force to burst the orb, can overturn it; its 
branches spread wide ; they stretch their protecting arms broader 
and broader, and its top is destined to reach the heavens. 

We are not deceived. There is no delusion here. No age will 
come, in which the American revolution will appear less than it 
is, — one of the greatest events in human history. No age will 
come, in which it will cease to be seen and felt, on either conti- 
nent, that a mighty step, a great advance, not only in American 
affairs, but in human affairs, was made on the 4th of July, 1776. 
And no age will come, we trust, so ignorant, or so unjust, as not 
to see and acknowledge the efficient agency of these we now 
honor, in producing that momentous event. — Daniel Webster. 



LESSOR XII. 



The Fox at the Point of Death. 



[Read the old Fox'e w< irdfl with the whole body relaxed. Notice the effect 
of relaxation on the voice.] 

A Fox, in life's extreme decay, 
Weak, sick, faint, expiring lay. 
All appetite had left his maw, 
And age disarmed his mumbling jaw. 
His numerous race around him stand, 
To learn their dying sire's command. 
He raised his head with whining moan, 
And thus was heard the feeble tone: 
' ' Ah, sons, from evil ways depart ; 
My crimes lie heavy on my heart. 
See ! see ! the murdered geese appear ! 
AVhy are those bleeding turkeys there ? 
Why all around this cackling train 
Who haunt my ears for chickens slain 2 " 
The hungry foxes round them stared, 
And for the promised feast prepared. 
' ' Where, sir, where all this dainty cheer t 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 18? 

Nor turkey, goose, nor hen is here. 

These are the phantoms of your brain, 

And your sons lick their lips in vain." 

" O gluttons! " says the drooping sire, 

" Eestrain inordinate desire. 

Your licorish taste you shall deplore 

When peace of conscience is no more. 

Would you true happiness attain, 

Let honesty your passions rein ; 

So live in credit and esteem, 

And the good name you lost redeem." 

" The counsel's good," a fox replies, 

" Could we perform what you advise. 

Think what our ancestors have done — 

A line of thieves from son to son. 

Though we like harmless sheep should feed, 

Honest in thought, in word, in deed, 

Whatever hen-roost is decreased, 

We shall be thought to share the feast. 

The change shall never be believed : 

A lost good name is ne'er retrieved." 

' ' Nay, then, " replies the feeble Fox — 

* ' But hark ! I hear a hen that clocks ! 

Go ; but be moderate in your food — 

A chicken, too, might do me good. " — John Gay 



LESSOH XIII. 



The Leper. 



[Try in this selection to read the pathetic portions with tender sympathy, 
but avoiding a whining tone. J 

Day was breaking, 
When at the altar of the temple stood 
The holy priest of God. The incense lamp 
Burned with a struggling light, and a low chant 
Swelled through the hollow arches of the roof, 



188 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Like an articulate wail ; and there, alone, 
Wasted to ghastly thinness, Helon knelt, 
Waiting to hear his doom : 

" Depart! depart, O child 
Of Israel, from the temple of thy God ! 
For He has smote thee with His chastening rod, 

And to the desert wild, 
From all thou lov'st, away thy feet must flee, 
That from thy plague His people may be free." 

And he went forth alone. Not one of all 
The many whom he loved, nor she whose name 
Was woven in the fibres of the heart 
Breaking within him now, to come and speak 
Comfort unto him. Yea, he went his way — 
Sick and heart-broken, and alone— to die ! 
For God had cursed the leper. 

It was noon, 
And Helon knelt beside a stagnant pool 
In the lone wilderness, and lathed his brow, 
Hot with the burning leprosy, and touched 
The loathsome water to his fevered lips, 
Praying he might be so blest — to die! 
Footsteps approached, and with no strength to nee, 
He drew the covering closer on his lip, 
Crying ' ' Unclean ! unclean ! " and in the folds 
Of the coarse sackcloth shrouding up his face, 
He fell upon the earth till they should pass. 
Nearer the stranger came, and bending o'er 
The leper's prostrate form, pronounced his name, 
' ' Helon : " The voice was like the master-tone 
Of a rich instrument— most strangely sweet ; 
And the dull pulses of disease awoke, 
And for a moment beat beneath the hot 
And leprous scales with a restoring thrilL 
"Helon, arise! " And he forgot his cui-se > 
And rose and stood before him. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 189 

Love and awe 
Mingled in the regard of Helon's eye, 
As he beheld the stranger. He was not 
In costly raiment clad, nor on his brow 
The symbol of a lofty lineage wore ; 
No followers at his back, nor in his hand 
Buckler, or sword, or spear ; yet in his mien 
Command sat throned serene, and if he smiled, 
A kingly condescension graced his lips, 
The lion would have crouched to in his lair. 
He looked on Helon earnestly awhile, 
As if his heart was moved ; and, stooping down, 
He took a little water in his hand 
And laid it on his brow, and said, "Be clean! " 
And lo ! the scales fell from him, and his blood 
Coursed with delicious coolness through his veins, 
And his dry palms grew moist, and on his brow 
The dewy softness of an infant's stole. 
His leprosy was cleansed, and he fell down 
Prostrate at Jesus' feet, and worshipped him. 

—N. P. Willis. 



LESSCOT XIY. 



Ecrio and. tine Kerry. 

[Study in melody, major and minor inflection.] 
Ay, Oliver ! I was but seven, and he was eleven ; 
He looked at me pouting and rosy. I blushed where I stood. 
They had told us to play in the orchard (and I only seven, 
A small guest at the farm) ; but he said, ' 'Oh ! a girl was no good !" 
So he whistled and went, he went over the stile to the wood. 
It was sad, it was sorrowful ! Only a girl — only seven ! 
At home in the dark London smoke I had not found it out. 
The pear-trees looked on in their white, and bluebirds flashed 
about 



.1 



190 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

And they, too, were angry as Oliver. Were they eleven ? 

I thought so. Yes, everyone else was eleven— eleven. 

So Oliver went, but the cowslips were tall at my feet, 

And all the white orchard with fast-falling blossom was littered ; 

And under and over the branches those little birds twittered, 

While hanging head downward they scolded because I was seven. 

A pity — a very great pity. One should be eleven. 

But soon I was happy, The smell of the world was so sweet, 
And I saw a round hole in an apple-tree rosy and old. 
Then I knew, for I peeped, and I found it was right they should 

scold. 
Eggs small and eggs many. For gladness I broke into laughter; 
And then someone else— oh ! how softly — came after, came after 
With laughter— with laughter came after. 
And no one was near us to utter that sweet, mocking call, 
That soon very tired Bank low with a mystical fall. 
But this was the country, perhaps it was close under heaven; 
Oh! nothing so likely ; the voice might have come from it even. 

But at last — in a day or two namely — Eleven and I 
Were very fast friends, and to him 1 confided the wonder. 
He said that was Echo. "Was Echo a wise kind of bee 
That had Learned how to laugh? Could it laugh in one's ear and 

then fly, 
And laugh again yonder v" ' No ; Echo" — he whispered it low — 
'• Was a woman, they said, but a woman whom no one could see 
And no one could find ; and he did not believe it, not he ; 
But he could not get near for the river that held us asunder. 
Yet I that had money — a shilling, a whole silver shilling — 
We might cross if I thought I would spend it." " Oh, yes, I was 

willing " — 
And we ran hand in hand, we ran down to the ferry, the ferry, 
And we heard how she mocked at the folk with a voice clear and 

merry 
When they called for the ferry ; but, oh ! she was very — was very 
Swift footed. She spoke and was gone; and when Oliver cried, 
' ' Hie over ! hie over ! you man of the ferry— the ferry ! " 
By the still water's side she was heard far and wide — she replied. 
And she mocked in her voice sweet and merry, ' Y T ou man of the 

ferry, 






SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 191 

You man of— you man of the ferry ! " 

"Hie over! " he shouted. The ferryman came at his calling; 

Across the clear reed-bordered river he ferried us fast. 

Such a chase ! Hand in hand, foot to foot, we ran on ; it sur- 



All measure her doubling, so close, then so far away falling, 

Then gone, and no more. 

We sought in the wood, and we found the wood-wren in her 

stead ; 
In the field, and we found but the cuckoo that talked overhead ; 
By the brook, and we found the reed-sparrow deep-nested, in 

brown; 
Not Echo, fair Echo — for Echo, sweet Echo was flown. 

— Arranged from Jean Ingelow. 



LESSOH XY. 



Incident of the French Camp. 



[This selection, though perhaps too difficult for young readers, is an 
excellent subject for analysis for phrasing and emphasis.] 

You know we French stormed Ratisbon : 

A mile or so away, 
On a little mound, Napoleon 

Stood on our storming-day ; 
With neck out -thrust, you fancy how, 

Legs wide, arms locked behind, 
As if to balance the prone brow, 

Oppressive with its mind. 

Just as perhaps he mused, "My plans 

That soar, to earth may fall, 
Let once my army-leader Lannes 

Waver at yonder wall, " — * 

* From the beginning of this stanza to the word " wall," we have an 
example of subordination which should be carefully studied. Notice that in 
poetry the order of words and phrases may be transposed from that of 
prose, as is frequently done in this example. It is good practice to rewrite 
such passages in prose form. 



192 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Out 'twixt the battery-smokes there flew 

A rider, bound on bound 
Full-galloping ; nor bridle drew 

Until he reached the mound. 

Then off there flung in smiling joy, 

And held himself erect 
By just his horse's mane, a boy: 

You hardly could suspect, 
(So tight he kept his lips compressed, 

Scarce any blood came through) 
You looked twice ere you saw his breast 

Was all but shot in tw< >. 

"Well," cried he, "Emperor, by God's graca 

We've got you Ratisbon ! 
The marshal's in the market-place, 

And you'll be there anon 
To see your flag-bird flap his vans 

Where I, to heart's desire, 
Perched him! " The chief's eye flashed ; his plans 

Soared up again like fire. 

The chief's eye flashed ; but presently 

Softened itself, as sheathes 
A film the mother-eagle's eye 

When her bruised eaglet breathes : 
' ' You're wounded ! " " Nay, " his soldier's pride 

Touched to the quick, he said : 
" I'm killed, sire!" And, his chief beside, 

Smiling, the boy fell dead. — Robert Browning. 



LESSOH XYI. 



Sympathy ^.vitri tine Greeks. 



[Study for range and sustained power.] 
And has it come to this ? Are we so humbled, so. low, so de- 
based, that we' dare not express our sympathy for suffering Greece, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 193 

— that we dare not articulate our detestation of the brutal ex- 
cesses of which she has been the bleeding victim, lest we might 
offend some one or more of their imperial and royal majesties ? 
If gentlemen are afraid to act rashly on such a subject, suppose, 
Mr. Chairman, that we unite in a humble petition, addressed to 
their majesties, beseeching them, that of their gracious conde- 
scension, they would allow us to express our feelings and our 
sympathies. 

How shall it run? "We, the representatives of the free people 
of the United States of America, humbly approach the thrones of 
your imperial and royal majesties, and supplicate that, of your 
imperial and royal clemency, " — I cannot go through the disgust- 
ing recital ! My lips have not yet learned to pronounce the syco- 
phantic language of a degraded slave ! 

Are we so mean, so base, so despicable, that we may not attempt 
to express our horror, utter our indignation, at the most brutal 
and atrocious war that ever stained earth or shocked high Heaven ; 
at the ferocious deeds of a savage and infuriated soldiery, stimu- 
lated and urged on by the clergy of a fanatical and inimical 
religion, and rioting in all the excesses of blood and butchery, at 
the mere details of which the heart sickens and recoils ? 

If the great body of Christendom can look on calmly and coolly 
whilst all this is perpetrated on a Christian people, in its own im- 
mediate vicinity, in its very presence, let us at least evince that 
one of its remote extremities is susceptible of sensibility to Chris- 
tian wrongs, and capable of sympathy for Christian sufferings ; 
that in this remote quarter of the world there are hearts not yet 
closed against compassion for human woes, that can pour out 
their indignant feelings at the oppression of a people endeared to 
us by every ancient recollection and every modern tie. 

Sir, an attempt has been made to alarm the committee by the 
dangers to our commerce in the Mediterranean ; and a wretched 
invoice of figs and opium has been spread before us to repress our 
sensibilities and to eradicate our humanity. Ah ! sir, ' 'what shall 
it profit a man if he gain the whole world, and lose his own 
soul ? " — or what shall it avail a nation to save the whole of a 
miserable trade, and lose its liberties ? — Henry Clay. 



194 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH XYII. 



Reading for trie Triougrit. 



[Especially valuable for analysis.] 

When you come to a good book, you must ask yourself, " Am 
I inclined to work as an Australian miner would ? Are my pick- 
axes and shovels in good order, and am I in good trim myself — 
my sleeves well up to the elbows, and my breath good, and my 
temper ?" And, keeping the figure a little longer, even at the cost 
of tiresomeness, for it is a thoroughly useful one, the metal you 
are in search of being the author's mind or meaning, his words 
are as the rock which you have to crush and smelt in order to get 
at it. And your pickaxes are your own care, wit, and learning; 
your smelting-f urnace is your own thoughtful soul. Do not hope 
to get at any good author's meaning without those tools and that 
fire. Often you will need sharpest, finest chiselling and pa- 
tientest fusing before you can gather one grain of the metal. 

And, therefore, first of all, I tell you earnestly and authorita- 
tively (I know I am right in this), you must get into the habit of 
looking intensely at words, and assuring yourself of their mean- 
ing, syllable by syllable — nay, letter by letter. For, though it is 
only by reason of the opposition of letters in the function of signs 
to sounds in the function of signs that the study of books is called 
" literature," and that a man versed in it is called, by the consent 
of nations, a man of letters, instead of a man of books or of 
words, you may yet connect with that accidental nomenclature 
this real fact — that you might read all the books in the British 
Museum (if you could live long enough) and remain an utterly 
illiterate, uneducated person ; but that if you read ten pages of a 
good book letter by letter, that is to say, with real accuracy, you 
are f orevermore in some measure an educated person. The entire 
difference between education and non-education (as regards the 
merely intellectual part of it) consists in this accuracy. A well- 
educated gentleman may not know many languages, may not be 
able to speak any but his own, may have read very few books. 
But whatever language he knows, he knows precisely; whatever 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 195 

word he pronounces, he pronounces rightly. Above all, he is 
learned in the peerage of words, knows the words of true descent 
and ancient blood, at a glance, from words of modern canaille ; 
remembers all their ancestry, their intermarriages, distant rela- 
tionships, and the extent to which they were admitted, and offices 
they held among the national noblesse of words at any time and 
in any country. But an uneducated person may know, by 
memory, many languages, and talk them all, and yet truly know 
not a word of any — not a word even of his own. An ordinarily 
clever and sensible seaman will be able to make his way ashore 
at most ports; yet he has only to speak a sentence of any lan- 
guage to be known for an illiterate person. So also the accent, 
or % turn of expression of a single sentence, will at once mark a 
scholar. And this is so strongly felt, so conclusively admitted, 
by educated persons, that a false accent or a mistaken syllable 
is enough, in the parliament of any civilized nation, to assign 
to a man a certain degree of inferior standing forever. — John 
RusJcin. 



LESSOH XVIII. 



Portia's Speech on Ivlercy. 



[Study in analysis for emphasis. In the delivery, have enthusiasm and 
reverence; endeavor to persuade, rather than to teach.] 

The quality of mercy is not strained ; 

It droppeth, as the gentle rain from heaven, 

Upon the place beneath ; it is twice blessed — 

It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes. 

'Tis mightiest in the mightiest : it becomes 

The throned monarch better than his crown ; 

His sceptre shows the force of temporal power, 

The attribute to awe and majesty, 

Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings ; 

But mercy is above this sceptred sway, 

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings, 



196 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

It is an attribute to God himself ; 

And earthly power doth then show likest God's 

When mercy seasons justice. Therefore, Jew, 

Though justice be thy plea, consider this— 

That, in the course of justice, none of us 

Should see salvation : we do pray for mercy ; 

And that same prayer doth teach us all to render 

The deeds of mercy. I have spoke thus much 

To mitigate the justice of thy plea; ■ 

Which if thou follow, this strict court of Venice 

Must needs give sentence 'gainst the merchant there. 

— Shakespeare. 



LESSOR XIX. 



The He 1^> of Sh.'niclon. 



[One of the most musical poems in our language, and an excellent study 
fur the voice. Do not degrade it Into a piece of imitation. This is reflective, 
cot didactic. Emphasize the feeling and admiration, rather than 

tlie facts.] 

With deep affection 
And recollection, 
I often think of those Shandon bells, 
Whose sound so wild would, 
In the days of childhood, 
Fling round my cradle their magic spells. 

On this I ponder 

Where'er I wander, 
And thus grow fonder, sweet Cork, of thee, — 

With thy bells of Shandon, 

That sound so grand, on 
The pleasant waters of the river Lee. 

I've heard bells chiming 
Full many a clime in, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 197 

Tolling sublime in cathedral shrine ; 

While at a glib rate, 

Brass tongues would vibrate ; 
But all their music spoke naught like thine. 

For memory, dwelling 

On each proud swelling 
Of thy belfry, knelling its bold notes free, 

Made the bells of Shandon 

Sound far more grand, on 
The pleasant waters of the river Lee. 

I've heard bells tolling 

Old Adrian's Mole in, 
Their thunder rolling from the Vatican ; 

And cymbals glorious 

Swinging uproarious 
In the gorgeous turret of Notre Dame ; 

But thy sounds were sweeter 

Than the dome of Peter 
Flings o'er the Tiber, pealing solemnly. 

Oh, the bells of Shandon 

Sound far more grand, on 
The pleasant waters of the river Lee. 

There's a bell in Moscow ; 

While on tower and kiosk — O — 
In Saint Sophia the Turkman gets, 

And loud in air 

Calls men to prayer, 
From the tapering summits of tall minarets. 

Such empty phantom 

I freely grant them ; 
But there's an anthem more dear to me: 

'Tis the bells of Shandon, 

That sound so grand, on 
The pleasant waters of the river Lee. 

— Francis Mahoney. 



198 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH XX. 



The Battle of Naseby.* 

BYOBADIAH BlND-THEIR-KINGS-IN-CHAlNS-AND-THEIR-NOBLES-WlTH- 
LINKS-OF-IRON, SERGEANT IN IRETON'S REGIMENT. 
[Study of variety of expression in the torso, and excited breathing.] 
Oh, wherefore come ye forth, in triumph from the North, 

With your hands, and your feet, and your raiment all red ? 
And wherefore doth your rout send forth a joyous shout ? 
And whence be the grapes of the wine-press which ye tread ? 

Oh, evil was the root, and bitter was the fruit, 
And crimson was the juice of the vintage that we trod ; 

For we trampled on the throng of the haughty and the strong, 
Who sat in the high places, and slew the saints of God. 

It was about the noon of a glorious day of June, 
That we saw their banners dance, and their cuirasses shine; 

And the Man of Blood was there, with his long essenced hair, 
And Astley, and Sir Marmaduke, and Rupert of the Rhine. 

Like a servant of the Lord, with his Bible and his sword, 
The general rode along us, to form us to the fight, 

When a murmuring sound broke out, and swelled into a shout, 
Among the godless horsemen, upon the tyrant's right. 

And, hark! like the roar of the billows on the shore, 
The cry of battle rises along their charging line ! 

For God ! for the Cause ! for the Church ! for the Laws ! 
For Charles, King of England, and Rupert of the Rhine ! 

The furious German comes, with his clarions and his drums, 
His bravoes of Alsatia, and pages of Whitehall ; 

♦Naseby is a Tillage in Northamptonshire. England. Here was fought a 
decisive battle between the royal forces commanded by Charles I. and those 
of the Parliament under Fairfax, June 1-1.1545. The royal centre was com- 
manded by the king in person, the right wins by Prince Rupert, and the left 
by Sir Marmaduke Langdal. Fairfax, supported by Skippon, commanded 
the centre of his army, with Cromwell on his right wing, and Ireton on his 
left. The royal army, though successful in the first part of the action, was 
totally defeated.— Monroe's Sixth Reader. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 199 

They are bursting on our flanks. Grasp your pikes, close your 
ranks, 
For Rupert never comes but to conquer or to fall. 

They are here ! They rush on ! We are broken ! We are gone ! 

Our left is borne before them like stubble on the blast. 
O Lord, put forth Thy might ! O Lord, defend the right ! 

Stand back to back, in God's name, and fight it to the last. 

Stout Skippon hath a wound ; the centre hath given ground ; 

Hark ! hark ! What means this tramping of horsemen in our 
rear ? 
Whose banner do I see, boys ? 'Tis he, thank God ! 'tis he, boys ! 

Bear up another minute : brave Oliver is here. 

Their heads all stooping low, their points all in a row, 
Like a whirlwind on the trees, like a deluge on the dykes ; 

Our cuirassiers have burst on the ranks of the Accurst, 
And at a shock have scattered the forest of his pikes. 

Fast, fast, the gallants ride, in some safe nook to hide 
Their coward heads, predestined to rot on Temple Bar ; 

And he — he turns, he flies : — shame on those cruel eyes 
That bore to look on torture, and dare not look on war. 

— Macaulay 



LESSOH XXI. 



Tine Little Sto^vaAT^ay. 



[Study in impersonation. Give special attention to Hearings and attitudes.] 

" 'Bout three years ago, afore I got this berth as I'm in now, i. 
was second engineer aboard a Liverpool steamer bound for New 
York. There'd been a lot of extra cargo sent down just at the 
last minute, and we'd had no end of a job stowin' it away, and 
that ran us late o' startin' ; so that, altogether, you may think, 
the cap'n warn't in the sweetest temper in the world, nor the 
mate neither. On the mornin' of the third day out from Liver- 



200 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

pool, the chief engineer cum down to me in a precious hurry, and 
says he : ' Tom, what d'ye think ? Blest if we ain't found a stow- 
away ! ' 

"I didn't wait to hear no more, but up on deck like a sky- 
rocket ; and there I did see a sight, and no mistake. Every man- 
Jack o' the crew, and what few passengers we had aboard, was 
all in a ring on the fo'c'stle, and in the middle was the fust mate, 
lookin' as black as thunder. Right in front of him, lookin' a 
reg'lar mite among them big fellers, was a little bit o' a lad not 
ten-year old — ragged as a scarecrow, but with bright, curly hair, 
and a bonnie little face o' his own, if it hadn't been so wof ul thin 
and pale. The mat* 1 was a great hulkin' black-bearded feller 
with a look that 'iul ha' frightened a horse, and a voice fit to 
make one jump through a keyhole; but the young un warn 't a 
bit af eard— he sto< »d straight up, and looked him full in the face 
with them bright, clear eyes <»' his'n, for all the world as if he 
was Prince BaLferd himself. You might ha' heerd a pin drop, 
as the mate spoke. 

" • Well, you young whelp,' says he, 'what's brought you 
here ? ' 

'"It was my step-father as done it,' says the boy, in a weak 
little voice, but a- could be. 'Father's dead, and 

mother's married again, ami my new father says as how he won't 
have no brats about eatm' up his wages; and he stowed me away 
when nobody warn't lookin', and guv me some grub to keep me 
goin' for a day or two till I got to sea. He says I'm to go to 
Aunt Jane, at Halifax ; and here's her address.' 

""We all believed every word on't, even without the paper he 
held out. But the mate says : ' Look here, my lad ; that's all 
very fine, but it won't do here— some o' these men o' mine are in 
the secret, and I mean to have it out of 'em. Now, you just point 
out the man as stowed you away and fed you, this very minute ; 
if you don't, it'll be the worse for you ! ' 

" The boy looked up in his bright, fearless way (it did my heart 
good to look at him, the brave little chap !) and says, quietly, 'I've 
told you the truth ; I ain't got no more to say.' 

' ' The mate says nothin', but looks at him for a minute as if 
he'd see clean through him ; and then he sings out to the crew 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 201 

loud enough to raise the dead: 'Reeve a rope to the yard; 
smart now!' 

' ' ' Now, my lad, you see that ere rope ? Well, I'll give you ten 
minutes to confess ; and if you don't tell the truth afore the time's 
up, I'll hang you like a dog ! ' 

"The crew all stared at one another as if they couldn't believe 
their ears (I didn't believe mine, I can tell ye), and then a low 
growl went among 'em, like a wild beast awakin' out of a nap. 

' ' ' Silence there ! ' shouts the mate, in a voice like the roar of a 
nor'easter. ' Stan' by to run f or'ard ! ' as he held the noose ready 
to put it round the boy's neck. The little fellow never flinched 
a bit ; but there was some among the sailors (big strong chaps as 
could ha' felled an ox) as shook like leaves in the wind. I 
clutched hold o' a handspike, and held it behind my back, all 
ready. 

" 'Tom,' whispers the chief engineer to me, ' d'ye think he really 
means to do it ? ' 

" 'I don't know,' says I, through my teeth ; ' but if he does, he 
shall go first, if 1 swings for it ! ' 

"I've been in many an ugly scrape in my time, but I never felt 
'arf as bad as I did then. Every minute seemed as long as a 
dozen; and the tick o' the mate's watch, reg'lar, pricked my ears 
like a pin. 

" 'Eight minutes,' says the mate, his great, deep voice breakin' 
in upon the silence like the toll o' a funeral bell. ' If you've got 
anything to confess, my lad, you'd best out with it, for ye're 
time's nearly up. ' 

" 'I've told you the truth,' answers the boy, very pale, but as 
firm as ever. ' May I say my prayers, please ? ' 

"The mate nodded; and down goes the poor little chap on his 
knees and puts up his poor little hands to pray. I couldn't make 
out what he said, but I'll be bound God heard it every word. 
Then he uns on his feet again, and puts his hands behind him, 
and says to tne mate quite quietly 'I'm ready. ' 

"And then, sir tne mate's hard, grim face broke up all to once, 
like I've seed the ice in the Baltic . He snatched up the boy in 
his arms, and kissed him, and burst out a-cryin' like a child ; and 
I think there warn't one of us as didn't do the same. I know I 
did for one. 



202 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

" ' God bless you, my boy ! ' says he, sinoothin' the child's hair 
with his great hard hand. ' You're a true Englishman, every 
inch of you ; you wouldn't tell a lie to save yer life ! Well, if so 
be as yer father's cast yer off, I'll be yer father from this day 
forth; and if I ever forget you, then may God forget me!' 

"And he kep' his word, too. When we got to Halifax, he found 
out the little un's aunt, and gev' her a lump o' money to make 
him comfortable; and now he goes to see the youngster every 
voyage, as reg'lar as can be ; and to see the pair on 'em together 
— the little chap so fond of him, and not bearin' him a bit o' 
grudge — it's 'bout as pretty a sight as ever I seed. And now, 
sir, axin' yer parding, it's time tor me to be goin' below; so I'll 
just wish yer good-night." 



LESSOR XXII. 



The Owl and the I3ell. 



"Bing, Bim, Bang, Borne!" 

Sang the Bell to himself in his house at home. 

Up in the tower, away and unseen, 

In a twilight of ivy, cool and green ; 

With his Bing, Bim, Bang, Borne! 

Singing bass to himself in his house at home. 

Said the Owl to himself, as he sat below 
On a window-ledge, like a ball of snow: 
1 ' Pest on that fellow, sitting up there, 
Always calling the people to prayer ! 
With his Bing, Bim, Bang, Borne ! 
Mighty big in his house at home ! 

"I will move, " said the Owl. ' ' But it suits me well ; 
And one may get used to it, — who can tell ? " 
So he slept in the day with all his might, 
And rose and napped out in the hush of night, 
When the Bell was asleep in his tower at home, 
Dreaming over his Bing, Bang, Borne I 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 203 

For the Owl was born so poor and genteel, 

He was forced from the first to pick and steal ; 

He scorned to work for honest bread — 

"Better have never been hatched," he said. 

So he slept all day ; for he dared not roam 

Till the night had silenced the Bing, Bang, Borne ! 

When his six little darlings had chipped the egg, 
He must steal the more ; 'twas a shame to beg. 
And they ate the more that they did not sleep well. 
" It's their gizzards," said ma. Said pa, "It's the Bell! 
For they quiver like leaves in a wind-blown tome, 
When the Bell bellows out his Bing, Bang, Borne!" 

But the Bell began to throb with the fear 
Of bringing the house about his one ear ; 
And his people were patching all day long, 
And propping the walls to make them strong. 
So a fortnight he sat, and felt like a mome, 
For he dared not shout his Bing, Bang, Borne ! 

Said the Owl to himself, and hissed as he said, 

" I do believe the old fool is dead. 

Now, now, I vow, I shall never pounce twice; 

And stealing shall be all sugar and spice. 

But I'll see the corpse, ere he's laid in the loam, 

And shout in his ear Bing, Bim, Bang, Borne ! 

"Hoo! hoo! " he cried, as he entered the steeple, 

"They 've hanged him at last, the righteous people ! 

His swollen tongue lolls out of his head — 

Hoo ! hoo ! at last the old brute is dead. 

There let him hang, the shapeless gnome ! 

Choked, with his throat full of Bing, Bang, Borne!" 

So he danced about him, singing ' ' Too-whoo ! " 
And napped the poor Bell and said, " Is that you? 
Where is your voice with its wonderful tone, 
Banging poor owls and making them groan ? 
A fig for you now, in your great hall-dome ! 
Too-whoo is better than Bing, Bang, Borne ! " 



204 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

So brave was the Owl, the downy and dapper, 
That he flew inside, and sat on the clapper ; 
And he shouted "Too-whoo! " till the echo awoke 
Like the sound of a ghostly clapper-stroke. 
"Ah, ha!" quoth the Owl, "I am quite at home; 
I will take your place with my Bing, Bang, Borne !" 

The Owl was uplifted with pride and self -wonder; 
He hissed, and then called the echo thunder ; 
And he sat, the monarch of feathered fowl, 
Till — Bang ! went the Bell, and down went the Owl, 
Like an avalanche of feathers and foam, 
Loosed by the booming Bing, Bang, Borne. 

He sat where he fell, as if naught was the matter, 
Though one of his eyebrows was certainly flatter. 
Said the eldest owlet, " Pa, you were wrong; 

at it again with his vulgar song." 
" Be still." said the Owl; "you're guilty of pride: 
I brought him to life by perching inside." 

"But why, my dear ;" Baid his pillowy wife; 
"You know he was always the plague of your life." 
"I have given him a lesson of good for evil; 
Perhaps the old ruffian will now be civil." 
The Owl looked righteous, and raised his comb ; 
But the Bell bawled on his Bing, Bang, Borne ! 

— George MacDonald. 



LESSOH XXIII. 



Scene from Tine Rivals. 



[Study particularly for the attitudes, but with attention to facial exprea 
sion as well.] 

Bob Acres, a stupid country squire, has been induced to chal- 
lenge his unknown rival, Beverley, who is really Captain Abso 
lute, though Acres does not know it. Sir Lucius O'Trigger, who 
has challenged Captain Absolute, has consented at the same time 
to act as second for Acres, not knowing that Beverley and Abso* 
lute are the same. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 205 

{Enter Sir Lucius and Acres, ivith pistols.] 

Acres. By my valour, then, Sir Lucius, forty yards is a goo<3 
distance. Odds levels and aims ! I say it is a good distance. 

Sir L. It is for muskets, or small field pieces. Upon my con- 
science, Mr. Acres, you must leave these things to me. Stay now, 
I'll show you. [Measures paces. ] There, now, that is a very pretty 
distance — a pretty gentleman's distance. 

Acres. Zounds ! we might as well fight in a sentry-box ! I tell 
you, Sir Lucius, the farther he is off the cooler I shall take my 
aim, 

Sir L. Faith, then, I suppose you would aim at him best of 
all if he was out of sight ! 

Acres. ¥o, Sir Lucius, but I should think forty, or eight and 
thirty yards — 

Sm L. Pho! pho! nonsense! three or four feet between the 
mouths of your pistols is as good as a mile. 

Acres. Odds bullets, no ! by my valour, there is no merit in 
killing him so near ! Do, my dear Sir Lucius, let me bring him 
down at a long shot ; a long shot, Sir Lucius, if you love me. 

Sir L. Well, the gentleman's friend and I must settle that. 
I suppose, Mr. Acres, you never were engaged in an affair of this 
kind before ? 

Acres. No, Sir Lucius, never before. 

Sir L. Ah, that's a pity — there's nothing like being used to a 
thing. Pray, now, how would you receive the gentleman's shot? 

Acres. Odds files ! I've practised that — there, Sir Lucius, there 
— [puts himself into an attitude] a side-front, hey ? — Odds, I'll 
make myself small enough— I'll stand edgeways. 

Sir L. Now, you're quite out — for if you stand so when I take 
my aim — [levelling at him] 

Acres. Zounds, Sir Lucius ! are you sure it is not cocked ? 

Sir L. Never fear. 

Acres. But — but — you don't know — it may go off of its own 
head! 

Sir L. Pho ! be easy. Well, now, if I hit you in the body, my 
bullet has a double chance ; for if it misses a vital part on your 
right side, 'twill be very hard if it don't succeed on the left 

Acres. A vital part ! 



206 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Sir L. But there— fix yourself so [placing him]— let him see 
the broadside of your full front — there — now a ball or two may 
pass clean through your body, and never do you any harm at all, 
and it is much the genteelest attitude into the bargain. 

Acres. Look ye, Sir Lucius— I'd just as leave be shot in an 
awkward posture as a genteel one— so, by my valour ! I will 
stand edgeways. 

Sir L. [looking at Ids watch]. Sure they don't mean to dis- 
appoint us — hah ! no, faith — I think I see them coming. 

Acres. Hey !— what !— coming ! 

Sir L. Ay, who are those yonder, getting over the stile ? 

Acres. There are two of them indeed !— well, let them come— 
hey, Sir Lucius! — we — we — we — we — won't run. 

Sir L. Run! 

Acres. No, I say — we won't run, by my valour! 

Sir L. What's the matter with you? 

Acres. Nothing, nothing, my dear friend — my dear Sir Lucius 
— but I — I — I don't feel quite so bold, somehow, as I did. 

Sir L. Oh, fie ! consider your honour. 

A» RES. Ay, true — my honour — do, Sir Lucius, edge in a word 
or two, every now and then, about my honour. 

Sir L. Well, here they're coming. [Looking.] 

[Enter Faulkland and Captain Absolute.] 

Sir L. Gentlemen, your most obedient — hah ! — what, Captain 
Absolute! So, I suppose, sir, you are come here, just like myself 
— to do a kind office, first for your friend — then to proceed to 
business on your own account? Mr. Beverley, [to Faulkland] 
if you choose your weapons, the Captain and I will measure the 
ground. 

Faulk. My weapons, sir ! 

Acres. Odds lif e ! Sir Lucius, I'm not going to fight Mr. Faulk- 
land ; these are my particular friends ! 

Sir L. What, sir, did not you come here to fight Mr. Acres ? 

Faulk. Not I, upon my word, sir ! But if Mr. Acres is so bent 
on the matter — 

Acres. No, no, Mr. Faulkland— I'll bear my disappointment 
like a Christian. Lookye, Sir Lucius, 'tis one Beverley I've chal- 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 207 

lenged — a fellow, you see, that dare not show his face. If he 
were here, I'd make him give up his pretensions directly. 

Capt. A. Hold, Bob — let me set you right — there is no such 
man as Beverley in the case. The person who assumed that 
name is before you ; and as his pretensions are the same in both 
characters, he is ready to support them in whatever way you 



Sir L. Well, this is lucky. Now you have an opportunity — 

Acres. What, quarrel with my dear friend, Jack Absolute ! — 
not if he were fifty Beverleys ! Zounds ! Sir Lucius, you would 
not have me so unnatural ! 

Sir L. Pho ! pho ! you are little better than a coward. 

Acres. Mind, gentlemen, he calls me a coward : coward was 
the word, by my valour ! 

Sir L. Well, sir ? 

Acres. Lookye, Sir Lucius, 'tisn't that I mind the word coward 
— coward may be said in a joke — but if you had called me a pol- 
troon, odds daggers and balls ! 

Sir L. Well, sir? 

Acres. I should have thought you a very ill-bred man. — 
Sheridan. 



LESSOH X-XIY. 



A. Plain Tale of 1893. 



[Study for deep, genuine feeling.] 

Heroic deeds are not, as some apostles of the commonplace 
would have us think, lost to the world in these degenerate days. 
Nor yet are they so plenty that we can afford to let even one pass 
by unnoticed and unrecorded. Great disasters and arduous ex- 
peditions call them forth, and they are seen, too, in the daily 
current of events in the humblest walks of life. Often the 
heroes are unconscious of their own worth. But the chief value 
of such deeds is not in the glorification of the doer, but in the 
inspiration they give to the beholder, to the reader, to all who 



208 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

know of them. There comes at this time from the Dark Conti- 
nent a plain tale of plain men in this latest year of the era of 
commonplace as thrilling as any saga of Odin and his heroes. 

It was in Matabeleland, in Captain Wilson's fatal pursuit of the 
wily monster, Lobengula. The principal facts of that gallant 
but disastrous ride have already been made known. But an 
officer of one of the Matabele regiments, who himself led in the 
attack upon the entrapped Englishmen, supplies, in his own 
graphic phrases, some details that can never be forgotten.* 
"I, Machasha, induna in the Insuka regiment, " he says, "tell 
you these things. We were six thousand men against your 
thirty-four. . . . They rode into the track, and linked their 
horses in a ring, and commenced a heavy fire upon us, and our 
men fell fast and thick. We opened a fire upon them and killed 
all their horses. Then they took to cover behind their horses' 
bodies and killed us jnst like grass. We tried to rush them. 
Twice we tried, but failed. After a time they did not fire so 
much, and we thought their ammunition was getting short. 
Then, just as we were preparing to rush again, they all stood up. 
They took off their hats and sang. We were so amazed to see 
men singing in the face of death that we knew not what to do. 
At last we rushed. Yon white men don't fight like men, but like 
devils. They shot us until the last cartridge, and most of them 
shot themselves with that, But those who had none left just 
covered up their eyes and died without a sound. Child of a 
white man, your people know how to fight, and how to die. 
We killed all the thirty-four. But they killed us like grass." 

Not the Spartans at Thermopylae, nor the Guard at Waterloo, 
presented a spectacle of sublimer heroism than that handful of 
Englishmen, surrounded by savage foes more than a hundred to 
one when the last cartridges were in their revolvers, standing up 
in full view of their slayers, reverently baring their heads, and 
singing "God Save the Queen!" Your latter-day materialist 
may sneer at it as fustian, or as mere brute desperation. It was 
neither. It was the sense of duty conquering the sense of fear. 
It was courage of soul triumphant over impending dissolution of 

*In the passage that follows, do not impersonate. Speak as you feel, 
with admiration for the heroism of these noble men. The emotions here are 
too deep for tricks of impersonation. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 209 

the body. It was a ' ' crowded hour of glorious life " that indeed 
was "worth an age without a name ; " worth it, not only to the 
actors in it, but to the whole human race. Those men had no 
reason to think, and did not think, that their death-song would 
ever be heard by other ears than those of their destroyer. Their 
deed was not bravado, but modest, loyal duty. But their voices 
will henceforth live in countless throbbing hearts, and their 
valor makes life and the world seem nobler to all their fellow- 
men. — New York Tribune. 



LESSOH XXV. 



Two Views of Christmas. 



[Study in inflection and impersonation.] 

Nephew. A merry Christmas, uncle ! 

Scrooge. Bah! humbug! 

Neph. Christmas a humbug, uncle ! You don't mean that, 
I'm sure ? 

Scrooge. I do. Out upon merry Christmas ! What's Christ- 
mas time to you but a time for paying bills without money; a 
time for finding yourself a year older, and not an hour richer ; a 
time for balancing your books, and having every item in 'em 
through a round dozen of months presented dead against you ? 
If I had my will, every idiot who goes about with "Merry 
Christmas " on his lips should be boiled with his own pudding, 
and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. He should ! 

Neph. Uncle ! 

Scrooge. Nephew, keep Christmas time in your own way, 
and let me keep it in mine. 

Neph. Keep it ! But you don't keep it ! 

Scrooge. Let me leave it alone, then. Much good may it do 
you ! Much good it has ever done you ! 

Neph. There are many good things from which I might have 
derived good by which I have not profited, I dare say, Christmas 



210 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

among the rest. But I am sure I have always thought of Christ- 
mas time, when it has come round, — apart from the veneration 
due to its sacred origin, if anything belonging to it can be apart 
from that — as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleas- 
ant time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the 
year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their 
shut hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they 
really were fellow-travelers to the grave, and not another race 
of creatures bound on other journeys. And, therefore, uncle, 
though it has never put a scrap of gold or silver in my pocket, I 
believe that it has done me good, and will do me good; and I say, 
God bless it! 

Scrooge. You're quite a powerful speaker, sir ; I wonder you 
don't go into Parliament. 

Neph. Don't be angry, uncle. Come! Dine with us to- 
morrow. 

Scrooge. I'll see you hanged first. 

Neph But why, uncle ? Why? 

Scrooge. Why did you get married ? 

Neph. Because I fell in love. 

Scrooge. Because you fell in lovel — Good afternoon! 

Neph. Nay, uncle, but you never came to see me before that 
happened. Why give it as a reason for not coming now ? 

Scrooge. Good afternoon! 

Neph. I want nothing from you; I ask nothing of you; why 
cannot we be friends ? 

Scrooge. Good afternoon ! 

Neph. I am sorry, with all my heart, to find you so resolute. 
We never had any quarrel to which I have been a party. But I 
have made the trial in homage to Christmas, and I'll keep my 
Christmas humor to the last. So, a merry Christmas, uncle! 

Scrooge. Good afternoon! 

Xeph. And a happy New Year ! 

Scrooge. Good afternoon ! — Dickens. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 211 

LESSOR XXYL 

The Christmas Party at Scrooge's Nephew's. 



[An excellent study for distinctness, as well as in all the elements of 
expression that we have studied.] 

It is a fair, even-handed, noble adjustment of things that, 
while there is infection in disease and sorrow, there is nothing in 
the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor. 
When Scrooge's nephew laughed, Scrooge's niece by marriage 
laughed as heartily as he. And their assembled friends, being 
not a bit behindhand, laughed out lustily. 

"He said that Christmas was a humbug, as I live!" cried 
Scrooge's nephew. " He believed it, too! " 

"More shame for him, Fred!" said Scrooge's niece, indig- 
nantly. 

Bless those women ! They never do anything by halves. They 
are always in earnest. She was very pretty ; exceedingly pretty. 
With a dimpled, surprised-looking, capital face; a ripe little 
mouth that seemed made to be kissed— as no doubt it was ; all 
kinds of good little dots about her chin, that melted into one 
another when she laughed; and the sunniest pair of eyes you 
ever saw in any little creature's head. Altogether, she was what 
you would have called provoking, but satisfactory, too ; oh, per- 
fectly satisfactory. 

"He's a comical old fellow," said Scrooge's nephew, "that's 
the truth; and not so pleasant as he might be. However, his 
offences carry their own punishment, and I have nothing to say 
against him. Who suffers by his ill whims ? Himself, always. 
Here he takes it into his head to dislike us, and he won't come 
and dine with us. What's the consequence ? He don't lose 
much of a dinner." 

"Indeed, I think he loses a very good dinner," interrupted 
Scrooge's niece. Everybody else said the same, and they must 
be allowed to have been competent judges, because they had 
just had dinner; and, with the dessert upon the table, were clus- 
tered round the fire by lamplight. 

"Well, I am very glad to hear it," said Scrooge's nephew, 



212 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

"because I haven't any great faith in these young housekeepers. 
"What do you say, Topper ? " 

Topper clearly had his eye on one of Scrooge's niece's sisters, 
for he answered that a bachelor was a wretched outcast, who 
had no right to express an opinion on the subject. Whereat 
Scrooge's niece's sister- the plump one with the lace tucker, not 
the one with roses — blushed. 

After tea they had some music. For they were a musical 
family, and knew what they were about when they sang a glee 
*or catch, I can assure you— especially Topper, who could growl 
away down in the bass like a good one, and never swell the large 
veins in his forehead, or get red in the face over it. 

But they didn't devote the whole evening to music. After a 
while they played at forfeits; for it is good to be children some- 
times, and never better than at Christmas, when its mighty 
founder was a child Himself. There was first a game at blind- 
man's buff, though. And I no more believe Topper was really 
blinded than I believe he had eyes in his boots. Because the way 
in which he wenl after that plump sister in the lace tucker was 
an outrage on the credulity ot human nature. Knocking down 
the fire-irons, tumbling over the chairs, bumping up against the 
piano, smothering himself among the curtains — wherever she 
went, then- went he! He always knew where the plump sister 
was. He couldn't catch anybody else. If you had fallen 'up 
against him, as some of them did, and stood there, he would have 
made a feint of endeavoring to seize you which would have been 
an affront to your understanding, and would instantly have 
sidled off in the direction of the plump sister. 

They had a game called Yes and No, where Scrooge's nephew 
had to think of something, and the rest must find out what; he 
only answering to their questions yes or no, as the case was. 
The fire of questioning to which he was exposed elicited from 
him that he was thinking of an animal, a live animal, rather a 
disagreeable animal, a savage animal, an animal that growled 
and grunted sometimes, and lived in London, and walked about 
the streets, and wasn't made a show of, and wasn't led by any- 
body, and didn't five in a menagerie, and was never killed in a 
market, and was not a horse, or an ass, or a cow, or a bull, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 213 

or a tiger, or a dog, or a pig, or a cat, or a bear. At every 
new question put to him, this nephew burst into a fresh roar of 
laughter; and was so inexpressibly tickled that he was obliged to 
get up off the sofa and stamp. At last the plump sister cried 
out: 

" I have found it out ! I know what it is, Fred ! I know what 
it is ! " 

"What is it?" cried Fred. 

"It's your Uncle Scro-o-o-o-oge ! " which it certainly was. 
Admiration was the universal sentiment, though some objected 
that the reply to " Is it a bear ? " ought to have been " Yes." — 
Dickens. 



LESSOH XXYII. 



The Palmer's Vision. 

By permission of Charles Scribner's Sons. 
[Study for the attitudes of the head.] 
Noon o'er Judsea ! All the air was beating 

With the hot pulses of the day's great heart ; 
The birds were silent; and the rill, retreating, 
Shrank in its covert, and complained apart, 

When a lone pilgrim, with his scrip and burden, 
Dropped by the wayside weary arid distressed, 

His sinking heart grown faithless of its guerdon — 
The city of his recompense and rest. 

No vision yet of Galilee and Tabor ! 

No glimpse of distant Zion thronged and crowned ! 
Behind him stretched his long and useless labor, 

Before him lay the parched and stony ground. 

He leaned against a shrine of Mary, casting 
Its balm of shadow on his aching head ; 

And worn with toil, and faint with cruel fasting, 
He sighed, "O God! God, that I were dead! 



2H SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

' ' The friends I love are lost, or left behind me ; 

In penury and loneliness I roam ; 
These endless paths of penance choke and blind me: 

Oh, come and take Thy wasted pilgrim home 1 " 

Then, with the form of Mary bending o'er him, 
Her hands in changeless benediction stayed, 

The palmer slept, while a swift dream upbore him 
To the fair paradise for which he prayed. 

He stood alone, wrapped in divinest wonder ; 

He saw the pearly gates and jasper walls 
Informed with light ; and heard the far-off thunder 

Of chariot wheels and mighty waterfalls. 

From far and near, in rhythmic palpitations, 
Rose on the air the noise of shouts and psalms; 

And through the gates he saw the ransomed nations 
Marching, and waving their triumphant palms. 

And white within the thronging empyrean, 

A golden palm-branch in His kingly hand, 
He saw his Lord — the gracious Galilean — 
Amid the worship of His myriads stand. 

" O Jesus, Lord of glory! bid me enter: 
I worship Thee ! I kiss Thy holy rood ! " 

The pilgrim cried, when, from the burning centre, 
A broad-winged angel sought him where he stood. 

" Why art thou here ? " in accents deep and tender 
Outspoke the messenger. " Dost thou not know 

That none may win the city's rest and splendor 
Who do not cut their palms in Jericho ? 

' ' Go back to earth, thou palmer empty-handed ! 

Go back to hunger and the toilsome way ! 
Complete the task that duty hath commanded, 

And win the palm thou hast not brought to-day ! " 

And then the sleeper woke, and gazed around him ; 
Then, springing to his feet with lif e renewed, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 215 

He spurned the faithless weakness that had bound him, 
And, faring on, his pilgrimage pursued. 

The way was hard, and he grew halt and weary ; 

But one long day among the evening hours, 
He saw beyond a landscape gray and dreary 

The sunset flame on Salem's sacred towers, 

Oh, fainting soul that readest well this story, 
Longing through pain for death's benignant balm, 

Think not to win a heaven of rest and glory 
If thou shalt reach its gates without thy palm. 

— J. G. Holland. 



LESSOH XXYIII. 



Marmion and Douglas. 



[Study in bold climax. Attitudes of the head.] 

The train from out the castle drew, 
But Marmion stopped to bid adieu : 

"Though something I might 'plain," he said, 
" Of cold respect to stranger guest, 
Sent hither by your king's behest, 

While in Tantallon's towers I stayed, 
Part we in friendship from your land, 
And, noble Earl, receive my hand. " 
But Douglas round him drew his cloak, 
Folded his arms, and thus he spoke : 
"My manors, halls, and bowers shall still 
Be open, at my sovereign's will, 
To each one whom he lists, howe'er 
Unmeet to be the owner's peer : 
My castles are my king's alone, 
From turret to foundation-stone,— 
The hand of Douglas is his own, 
And never shall in friendly grasp 



216 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

The hand of such as Marmion clasp. " 
Burned Marruion's swarthy cheek like fire 
And shook his very frame for ire, 

And— "This to me! " he said,— 
"An 'twere not for thy hoary beard, 
Such hand as Marmion's had not spared 

To cleave the Douglas' head ! 
And first, I tell thee, haughty peer, 
He who does England's message here, 
Although the meanest in her state, 
May well, proud Angus, be thy mate! 
And, Douglas, more I tell thee here, 

Even in thy pitch of pride, 
Here in thy hold, thy vassals near, 
(Nay, never l<«»k upon your lord, 
And lay your hands upon your sword) 

I tell thee thou'ri defied! 
And if thou saidsl I am not peer 
To any Lord in Scotland here, 
Lowland or highland, far or near, 

Lord Angus, thou hast lied I " 
On the Earl's cheek the flush of rage 
O'ercame the ashen hue of age. 
Fierce he broke forth,— "And dar'st thou then 
To beard the lion in his den, 

The Douglas in his Hall ? 
And hop'st thou hence unscathed to go ? 
No, by St. Bride of Both well, no ! 
Up drawbridge, grooms !— What, warder, ho' 

Let the portcullis fall ! " 
Lord Marmion turned — well was his need ! — 
And dashed the rowels in his steed. 
Like arrow through the archway sprung ; 
The ponderous gate behind him rung: 
To pass there was such scanty room, 
The bars, descending, razed his plume. 
The steed along the drawbridge flies, 
Just as it trembled on the rise ; 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE, 217 

Not lighter does the swallow skim 
Along the smooth lake's level brim : 
And when Lord Marmion reached his hand, 
He halts, and turns with clenched hand, 
And shout of loud defiance pours, 
And shook his gauntle t atthe towers. 
' ' Horse ! horse ! " the Douglas cried, ' ' and chase ! " 
But soon he reined his fury's pace : 
"A royal messenger he came, 
Though most unworthy of the name. 
***** 

St. Mary, mend my fiery mood ! 
Old age ne'er cools the Douglas blood, 
I thought to slay him where he stood. 
' Tis pity of him, too, " he cried ; 
"Bold can he speak, and fairly ride, 
I warrant him a warrior tried. " 
With this his mandate he recalls, 
And slowly seeks his castle walls. 

—Scott. 



LESSOH XXIX. 



Alexander Ypsilanti. 



[Study for attitudes of head and expression of the eye.l 
Alexander Ypsilanti sat in Muncac's lofty tower 
And the rotten casement rattled in the wind that midnight hour ! 
Black winged clouds in long procession, hiding moon and star. 

swept by, 
And the Greek prince whispered sadly, ' ' Must I here a captive 

lie?" 
On the distant south horizon still he gazes, half unmanned : 
"Were I sleeping in thy dust, now, my beloved fatherland ! " 
And he flung the window open — 'twas a dreary scene to view; 
Crows were swarming in the lowlands, round the cliff the eagles 

flew. 



218 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

And again he murmured, sighing, ' ' Comes there none good news 

to tell, 
From the country of my fathers ? " And his heavy lashes fell,— 
Was't with tears, or was't with slumber ? and his head sank on 

his hand, 
Lo ! his face is growing brighter, dreams he of his fatherland ? 
So he sate, and to the sleeper came a slender armed man, 
•Who with glad and earnest visage to the mourner thus began : 
"Alexander Ypsilanti, cheer thy heart and lift thy head! 
In the narrow rocky passage where my blood was freely shed, 
Where the brave three hundred Spartans slumber in a common 

grave, 
Greece to-day has met the oppressor, and her conquering banners 

wave: 
This glad message to deliver was my spirit sent to thee: 
Alexander Ypsilanti. Hollas' holy land is free!" 
Then awoke the prince from slumber, and in ecstasy he cries: 
" 'Tis Leonidas!" and glistening tears of joy bedewed his eyes. 
Hark! above his head a rustling; and a kingly eagle flies, 
From the window and in moonlight, spreads his pinions to the 

skies. 



LESSOH XXX. 



]\Iice at F*lay. 



[Variety in rhythmical movement.] 

Mother was away, and, in consequence, Bess, Bob, Archie, and 
Tom had gotten into all sorts of mischief, the most serious acci- 
dent being Archie's broken arm, the result of an attempt to ride 
the trick mule at the circus the day before. But in the minds of 
the children, the fact that Bob had dropped the best silver teapot 
down the well quite overshadowed all other misfortunes and the 
question was, how to recover it. 

' ' I see it ! I see it ! " cried Tom eagerly. ' ' It's down at the bot- 
tom. " 

"Did you suppose it would float ? " asked Bess. 

"Let me see ! " cried Bob. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 219 

" You clear out," said Archie : " you've made all this mischief. 
You'd "better go before you tumble in yourself, you little goose. 
I can't go after it, with my broken arm. " 

" Now I suppose we will hear of nothing but your broken arm 
for a month, and you'll shirk everything for it. ' I can't study 
'cause my arm's broken ; I can't go errands 'cause my arm's broken ; 
I can't go to church 'cause my arm's broken ; ' that will be your 
whim, Archie; but don't try your dodges on me, for I won't stand 
it. If it really hurts you, I'm sorry, and I'll lick any fellow that 
touches you till you get well again : but none of your humbug. 
Of course you can't go down the well ; you couldn't if your arm 
wasn't broken." 

Meanwhile Bess had gone to the house for a long fishing-pole, 
and soon returned carrying it. 

" We'll fasten a hook to the end of it and fish the teapot up," 
said she. 

"Ho, ho! Do you suppose it will bite like a fish? "laughed 
Tom. 

" No, I do not, Tom Bradley. But I suppose if I tie a string to 
the pole, and fasten an iron hook to one end, that I can wiggle it 
round in the water till the hook catches in the handle, and then 
we can draw it up. That's what I suppose. " 

" There's something in that, Bess. Let me try." 

" No ; go and get one for yourself. " 

" But where can I find one ? " 

"In the smoke-house, where I got mine." 

' ' Oh, get me one, too, " cried Bob. 

" And me one, too," cried Archie. 

Before half an hour had passed, the four children, all armed 
with fishing-poles, were intently wiggling in the water, catching 
their hooks in the stones by the side of the well, entangling their 
lines, digging their elbows into each other's sides, in their frantic 
attempts to pull their hooks loose, scolding, pushing, and getting 
generally excited. Every few minutes Tom would pull Bess back 
by her sunbonnet, and save her from tumbling over in her eager- 
ness : but so far from being grateful to her deliverer, Bess resented 
the treatment indignantly. 

" Stop jerking my head so! " she cried. 



220 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

" You'll be in, in a minute ; you'd have been in then, if I hadn't 
jerked you," answered Tom. 

1 ' Well, what if I had ? Let me alone. If I go in, that's my own 
lookout." 

"Your own look in, you mean. My gracious! wouldn't you as- 
tonish the toads down there ! But you'd get your face clean. " 

" Now, Tom, you let me be. I 'most had it that time." 

"So you've said forty times. This is all humbug. I'm going 
down on the rope for it." 

' ' Oh, no, Tom ; please don't. Indeed you'll be drowned ; the 
rope will break; you'll kill yourself: you'll catch cold," cried Bess, 
in alarm. 

"Pooh! girl! coward! " lvtortrd thankless Tom. " Who's afraid 
of what ? Stand back, small boys, I'm going in." 

"You'll poison the water," suggested Archie. 

' ' It will be so cold, " moaned Bob. 

" I'll screamfora hundred years, without stopping, Tom," cried 
Bess, wildly. "Yon shan't go down— you; I'll call someone. 
Murray! Peter! Maggie! c-o-o-o-o-o-o-me! O-o-o-o-h, c-o-o-o-o-me !" 

"Stop screaming, and help. Now, do you three hold on tight 
to this bucket; don't let go for a moment; pull away as hard as 
you can when I tell you to. Now for it. " 

And, without more ado, Tom clung to the other rope with his 
hands, and twisted his feet around the bucket-handle. " Hold on 
tight, and let me down easy," said Tom; and the three children 
lowered him little by little. 

A sudden splash and shiver told them he had reached water, 
and a shout of triumph declared that the teapot was rescued. As 
Tom shouted, all the children let go the rope and rushed to the 
side of the well to look at the victorious hero. It was a most for- 
tunate circumstance that the water in the well was low. As it 
was, he stood in the cold water up to his shoulders. ' ' What made 
you let go ?" roared Tom. 

' • Oh, Tom, have you got it ? Have you, really ? Ain't it cold? 
Are you hurt ? Were you scared ? Is the teapot broken ? " 

' ' Draw me up ! You silly children ! You goose of a Bess ! Why 
don't you draw me up ? " 

"I will, Tom; I'm going to," answered Bess. But all the united 
efforts could not raise Tom. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 221 

"I'll run next door and call Mr. Wilson," said Bess, hopefully, 
and started. As Bess ran, she was suddenly stopped at the gate 
by the sight of a carriage which had just driven up, and out of 
which now stepped Aunt Maria and Aunt Maria's husband, Uncle 
Daniel. These were the very grimmest and grandest of all the 
relations. 

For one awful moment Bess stood stunned. Then her anxiety 
for Tom overcame every other consideration, and before Aunt 
Maria could say, "How do you do, Elizabeth ? " she had caught 
her uncle by his august coat-tail, and, in a piteous voice, besought 
him to come and pull on the rope. " Pull on a rope, Elizabeth!" 
said Uncle Daniel, who was a very slow man; " why should I pull 
on a rope, my dear ? " 

"Oh, come quick ! hurry faster ! Tom's down in the well ! " cried 
Bess. 

" Tom down a well ! How did he get there ? " 

" He went down for the teapot," sobbed Bess; " the silver tea- 
pot, and we can't pull him up again ; and he's cramped with the 
cold. Oh, do hurry ! " 

Uncle Daniel leisurely looked down at Tom. Then he slowly 
took off his coat, and as slowly carried it into the house, stopped 
to give an order to his coachman, came with measured pace to 
the three frightened children ; then took hold of the rope, gave a 
long, strong, calm pull, and in an instant Tom, "dripping with 
coolness, arose from the well." — Neil Forest. 



LESSOH XXXI. 



The Chambered Nautilus. 
By permission of and arrangement with Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
This is the ship of pearl, which, poets feign, 
Sails the unshadowed main — 
The venturous bark that flings 
On the sweet summer wind its purpled wings 
In gulfs enchanted, where the siren sings, 



222 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

And coral reefs lie bare, 
Where the cold sea-maids rise to sun their streaming hair. 

Its webs of living gauze no more unfurl— 

Wrecked is the ship of pearl ! 

And every chambered cell, . 
Where its dim dreaming life was wont to dwell, 
As the frail tenant shaped his growing shell, 

Before thee lies revealed — 
Its irised ceiling rent, it sunless crypt unsealed! 

Year after year beheld the silent toil 

That spread his lustrous coil ; 

Still, as the spiral grew, 
He left the past year's dwelling for the new, 
Stole with soft step its shining archway through, 

Built up its idle door, 
Stretched in his last-found home, and knew the old no more. 

Thanks for the heavenly message brought by thee, 

Child of the wandering sea, 

Cast from her lap forlorn ! 
From thy dead lips a clearer note is borne 
Than ever Triton blew from wreathed horn! 

While on mine ear it rings, 
Through the deep caves of thought I hear a voice that sings : 

Build thee more stately mansions, O my soul, 

As the swift seasons roll! 

Leave thy low-vaulted past ! 
Let each new temple, nobler than the last, 
Shut thee from heaven with a dome more vast, 

Till thou at length art free, 
Leaving thine outgrown shell by life's unresting sea! 

— O. W. Holmes. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 223 

LESSOH XXXII. 



Sweet and Low. 



'^Gentle inclinations of the head and caressing attitudes of the hands; 
soft voice.] 

Sweet and low, sweet and low, 

Wind of the western sea, 
Low, low, breathe and blow, 

Wind of the western sea ! 
Over the rolling waters go, 
Come from the dying moon, and bio v, 

Blow him again to me ; 
While my little one, while my pretty one sleeps. 

Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Rest, rest, on mother's breast, 

Father will come to thee soon ; 
Father will come to his babe in the nest, 
Silver sails all out of the west 
Under the silver moon ; 
Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. 

— Tennyson, 
± 

The Twenty -third Psalm. 



The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 

He maketh me to he down in green pastures ; he leadeth me 
beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul ; he leadeth me in the paths of righteous- 
ness for his name's sake. 

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, 
I will fear no evil ; for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff 
they comfort me. 



224 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine 
enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth 
over. 

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my 
life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord f orever. — Bible. 



LESSOR XXXIII. 



The Owl Critic. 

By permission of and arrangement with Houghton, Mifflin & Co. 
[Colloquial manner. Free use of hand and forearm.] 
" Who stuffed that white owl ? " No one spoke in the shop ; 
The barber was busy and he couldn't stop; 
The customers, waiting their turn, were all reading 
The Daily, the Herald, the Post, little heeding 
The young man who blurted out such a blunt question ; 
Not one raised a head, or even made a suggestion ; 

And the barber kept on shaving. 

"Don't you see. Mister Brown," 

Cried the youth, with a frown, 

" How wrong the whole thing is, 

How preposterous each wing is, 

How flattened the head is, how jammed down the neck is — 

In short, the whole owl, what an Ignorant wreck 'tis ! 

I make no apology ; 

I've learned owl-eology.- 

I've passed days and nights in a hundred collections, 

And cannot be blinded to any deflections 

Arising from unskilful fingers that fail 

To stuff a bird right, from his beak to his tail. 

Mister Brown ! Mister Brown ! 

Do take that bird down, 

Or you'll soon be the laughing-stock all over town ! " 

And the barber kept on shaving. 

" I've studied owls, and other night fowls, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 225 

And I tell you what I know to be true : 

An owl cannot roost with his limbs so unloosed ; 

No owl in this world ever had his claws curled, 

Ever had his legs slanted, ever had his bill canted, 

Ever had his neck screwed into that attitude. 

He can't do it, because it's against all bird laws. 

Anatomy teaches, ornithology preaches, 

An owl has a toe that can't turn out so ! 

I've made the white owl my study for years, 

And to see such a job almost moves me to tears ! 

Mister Brown, I'm amazed you should be so gone crazed 

As to put up a bird in that posture absurd ! 

To look at that owl really brings on a dizziness ; 

The man who stuffed him don't half know his business ! " 

And the barber kept on shaving. 

"Examine those eyes, I'm filled with surprise 
Taxidermists should pass off on you such poor glass ; 
So unnatural they seem they'd make Audubon scream, 
And John Burroughs laugh to encounter such chaff. 
Do take that bird down ; have him stuffed again, Brown ! " 

And the barber kept on shaving. 

"With some sawdust and bark I could stuff in the dark 
An owl better than that ; I could make an old hat 
Look more like an owl than that horrid fowl, 
Stuck up there so stiff, like a side of coarse leather. 
In fact, about Mm there's not one natural feather." 

Just then, with a wink and a sly normal lurch, 
The owl, very gravely, got down from his perch, 
Walked round, and regarded his fault-finding critic 
(Who thought he was stuffed) with a glance analytic, 
And then fairly hooted, as if he should say : 
"Your learning's at fault this time, anyway ; 
Don't waste it again on a live bird, I pray. 
I'm an owl ; you're another. Sir Critic, good day I " 

And the barber kept on shaving. 
— James T. Fields. 



226 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH XXXIY. 



Herve Riel. 



[Study in movement, pitch and volume.] 

On the sea and at the Hogue, sixteen hundred ninety-two, 

Did the English fight the French — woe to France ! 
And, the thirty-first of May, helter-skelter through the blue, 
Like a crowd of frightened porpoises a shoal of sharks pursue, 
Came crowding ship on ship to St. Malo on the Ranee, 
With the English fleet in view. 

Twas the squadron that escapi <1. with the victor in full chase, 
First and foremost of the drove, in his great ship, Damfreville; 
Close on him tied, great and small, 
Twenty-two good -hips in all; 
And they signaled to the place, 
"Help the winners of a race! 
Get us guidance, give us harbor, take us quick — or, quicker 
still. 

Here's the English can and will ! " 

Then the pilots of the place put out brisk and leaped on board ; 
"Why, what hope or chance have ships like these to pass?" 

laughed they ; 
' ' Rocks to starboard, rocks to port, all the passage scarred and 
scored, 
Shall the ' Formidable ' here, with her twelve and eighty guns, 

Think to make the river-mouth by the single narrow way, 
Trust to enter where 'tis ticklish for a craft of twenty tons, 
And with flow at full beside '? 
Now 'tis slackest ebb of tide. 
Reach the mooring ! Rather say, 
While rock stands or water runs, 
Not a ship will leave the bay ! " 

Then was called a council straight ; 
Brief and bitter the debate : 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 227 

"Here's the English at our heels; would you have them take 

in tow 
All that's left us of the fleet, linked together stern and bow, 
For a prize to Plymouth Sound ? — 
Better run the ships aground ! " 

(Ended Damfreville his speech), 
' ' Not a minute more to wait ! 
Let the captains all and each 
Shove ashore, then blow up, burn the vessels on the beach ! 
France must undergo her fate. 

"Give the word!" — But no such word 
Was ever spoke or heard ; 
For up stood, for out stepped, for in struck amid all these — 
A captain ? A lieutenant ? A mate — first, second, third ? 
No such man of mark, and meet 
With his betters to compete ! 
But a simple Breton sailor pressed by Tourville for the fleet — 
A poor coasting pilot he, Herve Riel, the Croisickese. 

And "What mockery or malice have we here? " cries Herv6 Riel; 
"Are you mad, you Malouins? Are you cowards, fools or 
rogues ? 
Talk to me of rocks and shoals, me who took the soundings, tell 
On my fingers every bank, every shallow, every swell, 

' Twixt the offing here and Greve, where the river disembogues? 
Are you bought by English gold ? Is it love the lying's for ? 
Morn and eve, night and day, 
Have I piloted your bay, 
Entered free and anchored fast at the foot of Solidor. 
Burn the fleet, and ruin France ? That were worse than fifty 
Hogues ! 
Sirs, they know I speak the truth I Sirs, believe me there's 
a way I 

"Only let me laad the line 

Have the biggest ship to steer, 

Get this ' Formidable ' clear, 
Make the others follow mine, 



228 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

And I lead them most and least by a passage I know well, 
Right to Solidor, past Greve, 

And there lay them safe and sound ; 
And if one ship misbehave — 
Keel so much as grate the ground — 
Why, I've nothing but my life here's my head I" cries Herv6 Riel. 

Not a minute more to wait ! 

"Steer us in, then, small and great! 
Take the helm, lead the line, save the squadron!" cried its chief. 

' ' Captains, give the sailor place ! 
He is admiral, in brief. " 

Still the north wind, by God's grace; 

See the noble fellow's face 

As the big ship, with a bound, 

Clears the entry like a hound, 
Keeps the passage as its inch of way were the wide seas pro- 
found ! 

See, safe through shoal and rock, 
How they follow in a flock ! 
Not a ship that misbehaves, not a keel that grates the ground, 
Not a spar that comes to grief ! 
The peril, see, is past, 
All are harbored to the last. 
And just as Herve Riel hollas "Anchor!" — sure as fate, 
Up the English come, too late. 

So the storm subsides to calm ; 

They see the green trees wave 

On the heights o'erlookmg Greve ; 
Hearts that bled are stanched with balm. 
' ' Just our rapture to enhance, 

Let the English rake the bay, 
Gnash their teeth and glare askance 

As they cannonade away ! 
'Neath rampired Solidor pleasant riding on the Ranee! " 
Now hope succeeds despair on each captain's countenance ! 

Then said Damf reville, ' ' My friend, 
I must speak out at the end, 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 229 

Though I find the speaking hard : 
Praise is deeper than the lips ; 
Yon have saved the king his ships, 

Yon must name your own reward. 
Faith, our sun was near eclipse ! 
Demand whate'er you will, 
France remains your debtor still. 
Ask to heart's content, and have! or my name's not Damf reville. " 

Then a beam of fun outbroke 
On the bearded mouth that spoke, 
As the honest heart laughed through 
Those frank eyes of Breton blue : 
"Since I needs must say my say, 

Since on board the duty's done, 
And from Malo Roads to Croisic Point, what is it but a run ?— 
Since 'tis ask and have, I may — 

Since the others go ashore — 
Come ! A good whole holiday ! 
Leave to go and see my wife, whom I call the Belle Aurore!" 

That he asked, and that he got — nothing more. 

Name and deed alike are lost ; 
Not a pillar nor a post 
In his Croisic keeps alive the feat as it befell ; 
Not a head in white and black 
On a single fishing-smack, 
In memory of the man but for whom had gone to wrack 
All that France saved from the fight whence England bore 
the bell. 

Go to Paris ; rank on rank 

Search the heroes flung pell-mell 
On the Louvre, face and flank ; 
You shall look long enough ere you come to Herve EieL 
So, for better and for worse, 
Herve Riel, accept my verse ! 
In my verse, Herve Riel, do thou once more 
Save the squadron, honor France, love thy wife, the Belle Aurore.' 

— Robert Browning. 



230 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH XXXV. 



Against Whipping in the Navy. 



[Study in oratorical action.] 

There is one broad proposition, Senators, upon which I stand. 
It is this — that an American sailor is an American citizen, and 
that no American citizen shall, with my consent, be subjected to 
the infamous punishment of the Lash. Placing myself upon this 
proposition, I am prepared for any consequences. 

I love the navy. When I speak of the navy, I mean the sailor 
as well as the officer. They arc all my fellow-citizens and j^ours; 
and, come what may, my voice will ever be raised against a pun- 
ishment which degrades my countrymen to the level of a brute, 
and destroys all that is worth living for— personal honor and 
self-respect. 

In many a bloody conflict lias the superiority of American 
sailors decided the battle in our favor. I desire to secure and 
preserve that superiority. But can nobleness of sentiment or 
honorable pride of character dwell villi one whose every muscle 
has been made to quiver under the lash ? Can he long continue 
to love a country whose laws crush out all the dignity of man- 
hood and rouse all the exasperation of hat" in his breast? 

Look to your history— that part of it which the world knows 
by heart— and yon will find on its brightest page the glorious 
achievements of the American sailor. Whatever his country has 
done to disgrace him . ids spirit, he has never disgraced 

her. Man for man. he asks no odds, and he cares for no odds, 
when the cause of humanity or the glory of his country calls him 
to the fight. 

Who, in the darkest days of our Revolution, carried your flag 
into the very chops of the British Channel, bearded the lion 
in his den, and awoke the echo of old Albion's hills by the 
thunder of his cannon and the shouts of his triumph ? It was 
the American sailor; and the names of John Paul Jones and 
the Bon Homme Richard will go down the annals of time 
forever. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 231 

Who struck the first blow that humbled the Barbary flag— 
which, for a hundred years, had been the terror of Christendom — 
drove it from the Mediterranean, and put an end to the infamous 
tribute it had been accustomed to exact ? It was the American 
sailor ; and the names of Decatur and his gallant companions will 
be as lasting as monumental brass. 

In your war of 1812, when your arms on shore were covered by 
disaster — when Winchester had been defeated, when the army of 
the Northwest had surrendered, and when the gloom of despond- 
ency hung like a cloud over the land — who first relit the fires of 
national glory, and made the welkin ring with the shouts of 
victory ? It was the American sailor ; and the name of Hull and 
the Constitution will be remembered as long as we have a coun- 
try to love. 

That one event was worth more to the Republic than all the 
money which has ever been expended for a navy. Since that 
day, the navy has had no stain upon its national escutcheon, but 
has been cherished as your pride and glory ; and the American 
sailor has established a reputation throughout the world, in peace 
and in war, in storm and in battle, for a heroism and prowess 
unsurpassed. 

The great climax of Cicero in his speech against Verres is, that, 
though a Roman citizen, his client had been scourged. Will this 
more than Roman Senate long debate whether an American citi- 
zen, sailor though he be, shall be robbed of his rghts ? whether 
freeman, as he is, he shall be scourged like a slave ? 

Shall an American citizen be scourged ? Forbid it, Heaven ! 
Humanity forbid it ! For myself, I would rather see the navy 
abolished, and the Stars and Stripes buried, with their glory, in 
the depths of the ocean, than that those who won for it all its 
renown should be subjected to a punishment so brutal, to an 
ignominy so undeserved. — Commodore Stockton. 



232 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

LESSOH XXXVI. 

Scene from "Julius Caesar." 

[Study in dramatic action.] 

Rome; a street. Enter Flavtus and Marullus R. , meeting a 
throng of citizens from L., who stand across the background. 

Flavius. (c.) Hence! home, you idle creatures, get you home! 
Is this a holiday ? What ! know you not, 
Being mechanical, you ought not walk, 
Upon a laboring day, without the sign 
Of your profession?— Speak, what trade art thou ? 

1st Cit. Why. sir. a carpenter. 

Marullus. (r.) Win.- re is thy leather apron and thy rule? 
You, sir; what trade are you? 

2d Cit. (11. o.) Truly, sir, in respecfcof a fine workman, I am 
but, as you would say, a cobbler. 

Mar But what trade art thou ? Answer me directly. 

2d Cit. A trade, sir, that, I hope, I may use with a safe con- 
science ; which is, indeed, sir, a mender of bad soles. 

Mar. What trade, thou knave, thou naughty knave, what 
trade ? 

2d Cit. ~Saj, I beseech you, sir, be not out with me ; yet, if 
'you be out, sir, I can mend you. 

Mar. What mean'st by that ? Mend me, thou saucy fellow ! 

2d Cit. Why, sir, cobble you. 

Flav. Thou art a cobbler, art thou ? 

2d Cit. Truly, sir, all that I live by is the awl : I meddle with 
no tradesman's matters, nor woman's matters — but with awl. I 
am, indeed, sir, a surgeon to old shoes ; when they are in great 
danger, I re-cover them. As proper men as ever trod upon 
neat's-leather have gone upon my handy- work. 

Flav. But wherefore art not in thy shop to-day ? 
Why dost thou lead these men about the streets ? 

2d Cit. Truly, sir, to wear out their shoes, to get myself into 
more work. But, indeed, sir, we make holiday to see Csesar, and 
to rejoice in his triumph. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 233 

Mar. (l. c.) Wherefore rejoice? What conquest brings he 
home ? 
What tributaries follow him to Rome, 
To grace in captive bonds his chariot wheels ? 
You blocks, you stones, you worse than senseless things. 
Oh, you hard hearts, you cruel men of Rome, 
Knew you not Pompey ? Many a time and oft 
Have you climbed up to walls and battlements, 
To towers and windows, yea, to chimney-tops, 
Your infants in your arms, and there have sat 
The livelong day, with patient expectation, 
To see great Pompey pass the streets of Rome; 
And, when you saw his chariot but appear, 
Have you not made a universal shout, 
That Tiber trembled underneath his banks, 
To hear the replication of your sounds, 
Made in his concave shores ? 
And do you now cull out a holiday ? 
And do you now strew flowers in his way, 
That comes in triumph over Pompey's blood % 
Begone : 

Run to your houses, fall upon your knees, 
Pray to the gods to intermit the plague 
That needs must light on this ingratitude. 

Flav. (c.) Go, go, good countrymen ; and, for this fault, 
Assemble all the poor men of your sort ; 
Draw them to Tiber banks, and weep your tears 
Into the channel, till the lowest stream 
Do kiss the most exalted shores of all. 

[Exeunt Citizens r.] 

Mar. See, whe'r, their basest metal be not moved ; 
They vanish tongue-tied in their guiltiness. 
Go you down that way towards the capitol ; 
This way will I. Disrobe the images, 
If you do find them decked with Caesar's trophies. 

Flav. (r.) May we do so ? 
You know it is the feast of Lupercal. 

Mar. (l.) It is no matter; 



234 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

These growing feathers plucked from Caesar's wing, 
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch ; 
Who, else, would soar above the view of men, 
And keep us all in servile fearf ulness. 

[Exeunt Marullus l., Flavius r.] 

— Shakespeare. 



LESSOH XXXVII. 



Supporting tli^- Guna. 



[Speak distinctly, in Bpite of the excitemenl and consequenl rapiditywitb 
which parts of this selection must be given. ] 

We have been fighting at the edge of the woods. Every car- 
tridge-box has been emptied once and more, and a fourth of the 
brigade has melted away in dead and wounded and missing. Not 
a cheer is heard in the whole brigade. We know that we are 
being driven foot by foot, and that when we break back once 
more the line will goto pieces and the enemy will pour through 
the gap. 

Here comes help ! 

Down the crowded highway gallops a battery, withdrawn from 
some other position to save ours. The field fence is scattered 
while you could count thirty, and the guns rush for the hill 
behind us. Six horses to a piece — three riders to each gun. Over 
dry ditches where a farmer would not drive a wagon ; through 
clumps of bushes, over logs a foot thick, every horse on the gal- 
lop, every rider lashing his team and yelling — the sight behind us 
makes us forget the foe in front. The guns jump two feet high 
as the heavy wheels strike rock or log, but not a horse slackens 
his pace, not a cannoneer loses his seat. Six guns, six caissons, 
sixty horses, eighty men race for the brow of the hill as if he 
who reached it first was to be knighted. 

A moment ago the battery was a confused mob. We look again 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 235 

and the six guns are in position, the detached horses hurrying 
away, the ammunition-chests open, and along our line runs the 
command : ' ' Give them one more volley and fall back to support 
the guns !" We have scarcely obeyed when boom ! boom ! boom ! 
opens the battery, and jets of fire jump down and scorch the 
green trees under which we fought and despaired. 

The shattered old brigade has a chance to breathe for the first 
time in three hours as we form a line of battle behind the guns 
and lie down. What grim, cool fellows these cannoneers are ! 
Every man is a perfect machine. Bullets plash dust in their faces, 
but they do not wince. Bullets sing over and around them, 
but they do not dodge. There goes one to the earth, shot through 
the head as he sponged his gun. The machinery loses just one 
beat — misses just one cog in the wheel, and then works away 
again as before. 

Every gun is using short-fuse shell. The ground shakes and 
trembles — the roar shuts out all sounds from a battle line three 
miles long, and the shells go shrieking into the swamp to cut 
trees short off— to mow great gaps in the bushes— to hunt out 
and shatter and mangle men until their corpses cannot be recog- 
nized as human. You would think a tornado was howling through 
the forest, followed by billows of fire, and yet men live through it 
— aye ! press forward to capture the battery ! We can hear their 
shouts as they form for the rush. 

Now the shells are changed for grape and canister, and the 
guns are served so fast that all reports blend into one mighty 
roar. The shriek of a shell is the wickedest sound in war, but 
nothing makes the flesh crawl like the demoniac singing, purring, 
whistling grape-shot and the serpent-like hiss of canister. Men's 
legs and arms are not shot through, but torn off. Heads are torn 
from bodies and bodies cut in two. A round shot or shell takes 
two men out of the ranks as it crashes through. Grape and 
canister mow a swath and pile the dead on top of each other. 

Through the smoke we see a swarm of men. It is not a battle 
line, but a mob of men desperate enough to bathe their bayonets 
in the flame of the guns. The guns leap from the ground, almost 
as they are depressed on the foe, and shrieks and screams and 



236 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

shouts blend into one awful and steady cry. Twenty men out of 
the battery are down, and the firing is interrupted. The foe 
accepts it as a sign of wavering, and come rushing on. They 
are not ten feet away when the guns give them a last shot. That 
discharge picks living men off their feet and throws them into 
the swamp, a blackened, bloody mass. 

Up now, as the enemy are among the guns ! There is a silence 
of ten seconds, and then the flash and roar of more than 3,000 
muskets, and a rush forward with bayonets. For what ? Neither 
on the right, nor left, nor in front of us is a living foe ! There 
are corpses around us which have been struck by three, four and 
even six bullets, and nowhere on this acre of ground is a 
wounded man ! The wheels of the guns cannot move until the 
blockade of dead is removed. Men cannot pass from caisson to 
gun without climbing over winrows of dead. Every gun and 
wheel is smeared with blood — every foot of grass has its horrible 
stain. 

Historians write of the glory of war. Burial parties saw mur 
der where historians saw glory.— Detroit Free Press. 



LESSOH XXXVIII. 



Kacilis Descensus. 



[Study of facial expression.] 

"O where are you going with your love-locks flowing, 
On the west wind blowing along this valley track? " 

"The down-hill path is easy, come with me an it please ye, 
We shall escape the up-hill by never turning back." 

So they two went together in glowing August weather ; 

The honey-breathing heather lay to their left and right ; 
And dear she was to doat on, her swift feet seemed to float on 

The air like soft twin pigeons too sportive to alight. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 237 

'Oh, what is that in heaven where gray cloud-flakes are seven, 
Where blackest clouds hang riven just at the rainy skirt?" 

• Oh, that's a meteor sent us, a message dumb, portentous. 
An undeciphered solemn signal of help or hurt." 

'Oh, what is that glides quickly where velvet flowers grow 
thickly, 
Their scent comes rich and sickly?" "A scaled and hooded 
worm. " 
' Oh, what's that in the hollow, so pale I quake to follow ? " 
"Oh, that's a thin dead body which waits the eternal term." 

' Turn again, O my sweetest — turn again, false and fleetest. 

This beaten way thou beatest, I fear is hell's own track." 
' Nay, too steep for hill mounting ; nay, too late for cost counting : 

This down-hill path is easy, but there's no turning back." 

— The Congregationalist 



Tine Man in the Moon. 



By permission of the Publisher, F. T. Neely. 
[For comic facial expression.] 

Oh, the man in the moon has a crick in his back ; 
Wheel 

Whimm! 

Ain't you sorry for him ? 
And a mole on his nose that is purple and black ; 
And his eyes are so weak that they water and run, 
If he dares to dream even he looks at the sun, 
So he just dreams of stars, as the doctors advise. 
My! 

Eyes! 

But isn't he wise 
To just dream of stars as the doctors advise ? 

And the man in the moon has a boil on his ear; 
Whee! 

Whimm! 

What a singular thing! 



238 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

I know ! but these facts are authentic, my dear — 
There's a boil on his ear and a corn on his chin- 
He calls it a dimple, but dimples stick in ; 
Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you know; 
Whang! 

Ho! 

Why, certainly so ! 
It might be a dimple turned over, you know ! 

And the man in the moon has a rheumatic knee ; 
Gee! 

Whizz ! 

What a pity that is! 
And his toes have worked round where his heels ought to be ; 
So whenever he wants to go north he goes south, 
And comes back with the porridge crumbs all round his mouth, 
And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan. 
Wliing! 

Whann! 

What a marvelous man ! 
What a very remarkable, marvelous man ! 

— James Whitcomb Riley. 



LESSOH XXXIX. 



From "A. Tramp Abroad..* 



By permission of the American Publishing Co., Hartford, Conn. 
[Humorous and poetic description and imitation.] 
It may interest the reader to know how they ' ' put horses to " 
on the Continent. The man stands up the horses on each side of 
the thing that projects from the front end of the wagon, and then 
throws the tangled mess of gear on top of the horses, and passes 
the thing that goes forward through a ring and hauls it aft, and 
passes the other thing through the other ring and hauls it aft on 
the other side of the other horse, opposite to the first one, after 
crossing them and bringing the loose end back, and then buckles 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 239 

the other thing underneath the horse, and takes another thing 
and wraps it around the thing I spoke of before, and puts another 
thing over each horse's head, with broad flappers to it to keep 
the dust out of his eyes, and puts the iron thing in his mouth for 
him to grit his teeth on up hill, and brings the ends of these things 
aft over his back, after buckling another one around under his 
neck to hold his head up, and hitching another thing on a thing 
that goes over his shoulders to keep his head up when he is 
climbing a hill, and then takes the slack of the thing which I 
mentioned a while ago, and fetches it aft and makes it fast to 
the thing that pulls the wagon, and hands the other things up to 
the driver to steer with. I never have buckled up a horse 
myself, but I do not think we do it that way. 

We had four very handsome horses, and the driver was very 
proud of his turnout. He would bowl along on a reasonable trot 
on the highway, but when he entered a village he did ib on a 
furious run, and accompanied it with a frenzy of ceaseless whip- 
crackings, that sounded like volleys of musketry. He tore 
through the narrow streets and around sharp curves like a mov- 
ing earthquake, showering his volleys as he went, and before 
him swept a continuous tidal wave of scampering children, ducks, 
cats, and mothers clasping babies which they had snatched out 
of the way of the coming destruction ; and as this living wave 
washed aside along the walls, its elements, being safe, forgot 
their fears and turned their admiring gaze upon that gallant 
driver till he thundered around the next curve and was lost to 
sight. 

About noon we made a two-hours' stop at a village hotel. 
There was a lake here, in the lap of the great mountain. The 
green slopes that rose toward the lower crags were graced with 
scattered Swiss cottages nestling among miniature farms and 
gardens, and from out a leafy ambuscade in the upper heights 
tumbled a brawling cataract. 

Next to me at the table d'hote sat an English bride, and next 
to her sat her new husband, whom she called "Neddy," though 
he was big enough and stalwart enough to be entitled to his full 
name. They had a pretty little lovers' quarrel over what wine 
they should have. Neddy was for obeying the guide-book and 
taking the wine of the country ; but the bride said : 



240 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

" What, that nahsty stuff ! " 

" It isn't nahsty, pet, it's quite good." 

"It is nahsty." 

". No, it isn't nahsty." 

" It's oful nahsty, Neddy, and I shan't drink it." 

Then the question was, what she must have. She said he 
knew very well that she never drank anything but champagne. 
She added : 

1 ' You know very well papa always has champagne" on his 
table, and I've always been used to it." 

Neddy made a playful pretense of being distressed about the 
expense, and this amused her so much that she nearly exhausted 
herself with laughter, and this pleased him so much that he 
repeated his jest a couple of times, and added new and killing 
varieties to it. When the bride finally recovered, she gave 
Neddy a love-box on the arm with her fan, and said, with arch 
severity : 

"Well, you would have me— nothing else would do — so you'll 
have to make the best of a bad bargain. Do order the cham- 
pagne; I'm oful dry." 

So, with a mock groan, which made her laugh again, Neddy 
ordered the champagne. 

The fact that this young woman had never moistened the 
selvedge edge of her soul with a less plebeian tipple than cham- 
pagne had a marked and subduing effect upon Harris. He 
believed she belonged to the royal family. But I had my doubts. 

— Mark Twain. 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 241 

LESSOH XL. 



Morit Blanc Before Sunrise. 



[Study for reverential feeling. Do not try to describe these pictures. Simply 
express the emotions the poem awakens in you, and your audience will 
feel them also.] 

Hast thou a charm to stay the morning star 
In his steep course ? So long he seems to pause 
On thy bald, awful head, O sovereign Blanc ! 
The Arve and Arveiron at thy base 
Rave ceaselessly ; but thou, most awful form, 
Eisest from forth thy silent sea of pines, 
How silently ! Around thee, and above, 
Deep is the air and dark, substantial, black, 
An ebon mass : methinks thou piercest it 
As with a wedge. But when I look again 
It is thine own calm home, thy crystal shrine, 
Thy habitation from eternity. 

dread and silent mount ! I gazed upon thee 
Till thou, still present to the bodily sense, 

Didst vanish from my thought : entranced in prayer 

1 worshipped the Invisible alone. 

Yet, like some sweet beguiling melody, — 

So sweet we know not we are listening to it, — 

Thou, the meanwhile, wast blending with my thought, 

Yea, with my life, and life's own secret joy; 

Till the dilating soul, enrapt, transfused, 

Into the mighty vision passing — there, 

As in her natural form, swelled vast to heaven. 

Awake, my soul ! not only passive praise 
Thou owest ! not alone these swelling tears, 
Mute thanks, and secret ecstasy ! Awake, 
Voice of sweet song ! Awake, my heart, awake ! 
Green vales and icy cliffs ! all join my hymn ! 



242 SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 

Thou first and chief, sole sovereign of the vale ! 
f Oh, struggling with the darkness all the night, 

And visited all night by troops of stars, 
Or when they climb the sky, or when they sink, — 
Companion of the morning star at dawn, 
Thyself earth's rosy star, and of the dawn 
Co-herald — wake ! O wake ! and utter praise ! 
Who sank thy sunless pillars deep in earth ? 
Who filled thy countenance with rosy light ? 
Who made thee parent of perpetual streams ? 

And you, ye five wild torrents fiercely glad ! 

Who called you forth from night and utter death, 

From dark and icy caverns called you forth, 

Down those precipitous, black, jagged rocks, 

Forever shattered, and the same forever ? 

Who gave you your invulnerable life, 

Your strength, your speed, your fury and your joy, 

Unceasing thunder, and eternal foam? 

And who commanded — and the silence came — 

"Here let the billows stiffen and have rest?" 

Ye ice-falls! ye that from the mountain's brow 
Adown enormous ravines slope amain, — 
Torrents, methinks, that heard a mighty voice, 
And stopped at once amid their maddest plunge ! 
Motionless torrents ; silent cataracts ! 
Who made you glorious as the gates of heaven 
Beneath the keen full moon ? Who bade the sun 
Clothe you with rainbows ? Who, with living flowers 
Of loveliest blue, spread garlands at your feet ? 

' ' God ! " let the torrents, like a shout of nations, 
Answer! and let the ice-plain echo, "God! " 
"God!" sing, ye meadow streams, with gladsome voice 
Ye pine groves, with your soft and soul -like sound's! 
And they, too, have a voice, yon piles of snow, 
And in their perilous fall shall thunder, "God ! " 



SELECTIONS FOR PRACTICE. 243 

Ye living flowers that skirt the eternal frost ! 
Ye wild goats sporting round the eagle's nest! 
Ye eagles, playmates of the mountain storm ! 
Ye lightnings, the dread arrows of the clouds! 
Ye signs and wonders of the elements ! 
Utter forth "God!" and fill the hills with praise! 

Thou, too, hoar mount ! with thy sky-pointing peaks, 

Oft from whose feet the avalanche, unheard 

Shoots downward, glittering through the pure serene 

Into the depth of clouds that veil thy breast, — 

Thou, too, again, stupendous mountain ! thou 

That, as I raise my head, awhile bowed low 

In adoration, upward from thy base 

Slow travelling, with dim eyes suffused with tears. 

Solemnly seemest, like a vapory cloud, 

To rise before me, — rise, oh, ever rise! 

Rise, like a cloud of incense, from the earth ! 

Thou kingly spirit, throned among the hills, 

Thou dread ambassador from earth to heaven, 

Great Hierarch ! tell thou the silent sky, 

And tell the stars, and tell yon rising sun, 

Earth, with her thousand voices, praises God. 

—S. T. Coleridge. 



Note to Lesson XXIII., page 204, and to Lesson XXXVI., Page 232. 

The accompanying diagram explains the usual stage direction* 
that are found in acting editions of plays and dialogues. 



/ " Up stage " or back. \ 

R. 3 E. L. 3 E. 



' R. R. C. C. L. C. L. 

R. 2 E. Right. Right Centre. Centre. Left Centre. Left. L - 2 El 



'• Down stage M or front. 



| 

L. 1 B 



The Audience. 



Side entrances.— Right or Left. 1st, 2d. 3rd, and upper entrance. 

Doors at back.— Right centre, centre and left centre. 

Principal characters come to or near the centre, subordinate characters, 
and principals also, when for the time they give place to others, belong 
"up stage." 

The actor should stand so that his face is easily seen by the 
audience, unless there is an especial reason for turning his back 
upon them; for this reason, the foot nearest the person whom he 
is addressing on the stage should be the foot furthest "up stage," 
and in pacing to and fro the last step at either side of the stage 
should always be upon this fooc, so that the transition to the 
other direction can be made without turning the back on the 
audience. In grouping a number of characters on the stage the 
chief thing to be borne in mind is that everyone should be so 
placed that he can be easily seen from the front. The simplest 
form is the arc of a circle, but if the arc is broken intx) a number 
of little groups the effect is more artistic. Often the principals 
are grouped in the front with subordinates up the stage. One of 
the most difficult accomplishments of the actor is the exit or 
departure from the stage. It should always be made expressive 
in the highest degree. After an impassioned speech amateurs 
often walk tamely off with an air as if all were finished ; on the 
contrary, the exit should emphasize the prevailing mood, whether 
of love, hate, joy or sorrow. Entrances, exits and all other 
changes of position should be accomplished gracefully, avoiding 
angularitv. 

(244) 



MISCELLANEOUS 
SELECTIONS 



Miscellaneous Selections. 



LILIES OF QUEENS' GARDENS. 

BY JOHN RUSKIN. 

It is now long since the women of England arrogated, univer- 
sally, a title which once belonged to nobility only, and insisted 
on the privilege of assuming the title of "lady," which properly 
corresponds only to the title of "lord." 

I do not blame them for this, but only for their narrow motive 
in this. I would have them desire and claim the title of "lady," 
provided they claim, not merely the title but the office and duty 
signified by it. Lady means "bread-giver" or "loaf-giver," and 
"lord" means "maintainer of laws," and both titles have refer- 
ence, not to the law which is maintained in the house, not to the 
bread which is given to the household, but to law maintained 
for the multitude and to bread broken among the multitude. So 
that a lord has legal claim only to his title in so far as he is 
the maintainer of the justice of the Lord of Lords; and a lady 
has legal claim to her title, only so far as she communicates that 
help to the poor representatives of her Master. 

And this beneficent and legal dominion, this power of the 
Domimis or House-Lord, and of the Domina, or House-Lady, is 
great and venerable, not in the number of those through whom it 
has lineally descended, but in the number of those whom it grasps 
within its sway ; it is always regarded with reverent worship 
wherever its dynasty is founded on its duty, and its ambition 
corelative with its beneficence. Your fancy is pleased with the 
thought of being noble ladies, with a train of vassals ? Be it so ; 
you can not be too noble, and your train can not be too great ; but 
see to it that your train is of vassals whom you serve and feed, 
not merely of slaves who serve and feed you; and that the multi- 
tude which obeys you is of those whom you have comforted, not 
oppressed, — whom you have redeemed, not led into captivity. 



248 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

And this, which is true of the lower or household dominion, 
is equally true of the queenly dominion. That highest dignity is 
open to you if you will also accept that highest duty. Rex et 
rcgina — roi et reine — "right-doers"; they differ but from the lady 
and lord, in that their power is supreme over the mind as over 
the person, that they not only feed and clothe, but direct and 
teach. And whether consciously or not, you must be, in many a 
heart, enthroned. There is no putting by that crown; queens 
you must always be, — queens to your lovers; queens to your hus- 
bands and your sons ; queens of higher mystery to the world be- 
yond, which bows itself, and will for ever bow, before the myrtle 
crown, and the stainless sceptre, of womanhood. But, alas! you 
are too often idle and careless queens, grasping at majesty in the 
least things, while you abdicate it in the greatest, and, leaving 
misrule and violence to work their will among men, in defiance 
of the power which, holding straight in gift from the Prince of 
all Peace, the wicked among you betray, and the good forget. 

"Prince of Peace!" Note that name. When kings rule in that 
name, and nobles, and the judges of the earth, they also, in their 
narrow- place, and mortal measure, receive the power of it. There 
are no other rulers than they; other rule than theirs is but mis- 
rule ; they who govern verily "Dei gratia" are all princes, yes, or 
princesses, of peace. There is not a war in the world, no, nor an 
injustice, but you women are answerable for it; not in that you 
have provoked, but in that you have not hindered. Men, by their 
nature, are prone to fight; they will fight for any cause or for 
none. It is for you to choose their cause for them, and to for- 
bid them when there is no cause. There is no suffering, no in- 
justice, no misery in the earth, but the guilt of it lies with you. 
Men can bear the sight of it, but you should not be able to bear 
it. Men may tread it down without sympathy, in their own strug- 
gle ; but men are feeble in sympathy and contracted in hope ; it is 
you only who can feel the depths of pain, and conceive the way of 
its healing. Instead of trying to do this, you turn away from it ; 
you shut yourselves within your park walls and garden gates, 
and you are content to know that there is beyond them a whole 
world in wilderness, — a world of secrets which you dare not pene- 
trate and of suffering which you dare not conceive. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 240 

I am surprised at no depths to which, when once warped from 
its honor, humanity can be degraded. I do not wonder at the 
miser's death, with his hands, as they relax, dropping gold. I do 
not wonder at the sensualist's life, with the shroud wrapped about 
his feet. I do not wonder at the single-handed murder of a single 
victim, done by the assassin in the darkness of the railway or 
reed-shadow of the marsh. I do not even wonder at the myriad- 
handed murder of multitudes, done boastfully in the daylight 
by the frenzy of nations, and the immeasurable, unimaginable 
guilt, heaped up from hell to heaven, of their priests and kings. 
But this is wonderful to me — oh, how wonderful ! to see the ten- 
der and delicate woman among you, with her child at her breast, 
and a power, if she would wield it, over it and over its father, 
purer than the air of heaven and stronger than the seas of earth ; 
to see her abdicate this majesty to play at precedence with her 
next-door neighbor ! This is wonderful — oh, wonderful ! — to 
see her, with every innocent feeling fresh within her, go out in the 
morning into her garden to play with the fringes of its guarded 
flowers, and lift their heads when they are drooping, with her 
happy smile upon her face and no cloud upon her brow, because 
there is a little wall around her place of peace ; and yet she knows, 
in her heart, if she would only look for its knowledge, that, out- 
side of that little rose-covered wall, the wild grass, to the horizon, 
is torn up by the agony of men, and beat level by the drift of their 
life-blood. 

Have you ever considered what a deep under-meaning there 
lies, or at least may be read, if we choose, in our custom of strew- 
ing flowers before those whom we think most happy? Do you 
suppose it is merely to deceive them into the hope that happiness 
is always to fall thus in showers at their feet? that the rough 
ground will be made smooth for them by depth of roses? So 
surely as they believe that, they will have, instead, to walk on 
bitter herbs and thorns. But it is not thus intended they should 
believe ; there is a better meaning in that old custom. The path 
of a good woman is indeed strewn with flowers ; but they rise 
behind her steps, not before them. "Her feet have touched the 
meadows, and left the daisies rosy." 

But it is little to say of a woman, that she only does not de- 
stroy where she passes. She should revive; the harebells should 



250 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

bloom, not stoop, as she passes. You have heard it said, that 
flowers only flourish rightly in the garden of someone who loves 
them. I know you would like that to be true; you would think 
it a pleasant magic if you could flush your flowers into brighter 
bloom by a kind look upon them; nay, more, if your look had 
the power, not only to cheer but to guard them; if you could bid 
the black blight turn away, and the knotted caterpillar spare; it' 
you could bid the dew fall upon them in the drought, and say to 
tin- south wind, in frost: "Come, thou south, and breathe upon 
my garden, that the spices of it may flow out." This you would 
think a great thin-? And do you think it not a greater thing, 
that all this (and how much more than this!) you can do for 
fairer flowers than these, — flowers that could bless you for hav- 
ing blessed them, and will love you for having loved them; flow- 
ers that have eyes 1 : . ; d thoughts like yours, and lives 
like yours, which, once saved, you save t' ver? ts this only 
a little power? Far among the moorlands and the rocks, far in 
the darkness of the terrible streets, th Feel lorets are lying, 
with all their fresh leaves torn, ami their stems broken. Will you 
never go down to them, nor set them in order in their little fra- 
grant beds, nor fence them in their trembling from the fierce 
wind? Shall morning follow morning for you, hut not for them; 
and the dawn rise to watch, far away, those frantic dances of 
death; hut no dawn rise to breathe upon these living banks of 
wild violet and woodbine and rose, nor call to you, through your 
casement, — call, s 

me into the garden, Maud, 
For the black bat, night, h 
And the woodbine spices are wafted abroad 
And the musk of the roses blown?" 

Will you not go down among them — among those sweet living 
things? Still they turn to you, and for you and "the larkspur 
listens — I hear, I hear! And the lily whispers: I wait." 

"Come into the garden. Maud, 

For the black bat. night, has flown. 
Come into the garden, Maud, 

I am here at the gate, alone." 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 251 

Who is it, think you, who stands at the gate of this sweeter 
garden, alone, waiting for you? Did you ever hear, not of a 
Maud but a Madeleine, who went down to her garden in the 
dawn, and found One waiting at the gate, whom she supposed 
to be the gardener? Have you not sought Him often, — sought 
Him in vain, all through the night, sought Him in vain at the 
gate of that old garden where the fiery sword is set? He is 
never there ; but at the gate of this garden He is waiting always, 
— waiting to take your hand, ready to go down to see the fruits 
of the valley, to see whether the vine has flourished and the 
pomegranate budded. There you shall see with Him the little 
tendrils of the vines that His hand is guiding; there you shall 
see the pomegranate springing where His hand cast the sanguine 
seed ; more, you shall see the troops of the angel keepers that, 
with, their wings, wave away the hungry birds from the path- 
sides where He has sown, and call to each other between the 
vineyard rows, "Take us the foxes, the little foxes that spoil the 
vines, for our vines have tender grapes." Oh, you queens, you 
queens ! Among the hills and happy greenwood of this land of 
yours, shall the foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have 
nests; and in your cities, shall the stones cry out against you, 
that they are the only pillows where the Son of Man can lay His 
head ? 



SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE. 

BY SIDNEY LAXIER. 

Out of the hills of Habersham, 

Down in the valleys of Hall, 
I hurry amain to reach the plain, 
Run the rapid and leap the fall, 
Split at the rock and together again, 
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, 
And flee from folly on every side 
With a lover's pain to attain the plain 

Far from the hills of Habersham, 

Ear from the valleys of Hall. 



252 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

All down the hills of Habersham, 

All through the valleys of Hall, 
The rushes cried, Abide, abide, 
The wilful water-weeds held me thrall, 
The waving laurel turned my tide, 
The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, 
The dewberry dipped for to work delay, 
And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide, 

Here in the hills of Habersham, 

Here in the valley of Hall. 

High over the hills of Habersham, 

Veiling the valley of Hall, 
The hickory told me manifold 
Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall 
Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, 
The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, 
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, 
Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold 

Deep shades of the hills of Habersham. 

These glades in the valley of Hall. 

And oft in the hills of Habersham, 

And oft in the valley of Hall, 
The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone 
Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, 
And many a luminous jewel lone — 
Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, 
Ruby, garnet, and amethyst — 
Made lures with the lights of streaming stone 

In the clefts of the hills of Habersham, 

In the beds of the valleys of Hall. 

But oh. not the hills of Habersham, 

And oh, not the valleys of Hall 
Avail : I am fain for to water the plain. 
Downward the voices of Duty call — 
Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main, 
The dry fields burn and the mills are to turn, 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 253 

And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, 
And the lordly main from beyond the plain 

Calls o'er the hills of Habersham, 

Calls through the valleys of Hall. 



THE GREAT SCHOOLS OF THE WORLD. 

BY HON. JOHN P. JONES. 
[From speech delivered in the U. S. Senate, September 10, 1890.] 

The great schools of the world are no longer those in which 
the dead languages are taught. They are the mechanical work- 
shops, in which young men learn to build Corliss engines, Wal- 
than watches, dynamos, and the long list of other marvelous 
machines that but herald the approach of greater marvels. The 
professors of the new philosophy are not those who despise in- 
dustry; they are the chieftains of industry. "This is the stone 
which was set at naught of you builders, which is become the 
head of the corner." 

These are the schools — the true "universities" — that a nation 
needs. The instruction which they impart has all the accuracy 
of mathematics, all the grace of rhetoric, all the rhythm of 
poetry. The implements of thought are not words, but the tools 
of labor. The processes of analysis and synthesis are taught by 
real, not mimic, object-lessons. The constructive faculty is exer- 
cised where it should be exercised — in construction. The imagi- 
nation has free play in the realm of invention and experiment. 
The reasoning powers are disciplined to an extent unknown to the 
logicians. In the making of an argument men may err without 
detection; in the making of a watch or a window-sash they can- 
not do so. 

Says Macaulay: 

"Bacon has remarked that in all ages when philosophy was 
stationary the mechanical |rts went on improving. Why was 
this? Evidently because the mechanic was not content with so 
careless a mode of induction as served the purpose of the philoso- 



254 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

phers. And why was the philosopher more easily satisfied than 
the mechanic? Evidently because the object of the mechanic 
was to mold things, while the object of the philosopher was only 
to mold words. Careful induction is not all necessary to the 
making of a good syllogism, but it is indispensable to the making 
of a good shoe." 

Men may take risks in the employment of a professor of belles- 
lettres ; they will take none in the employment of an engineer. 
The untrained head may do no harm; the unskilled hand may 
prove destructive. The workshop is the academia of the new 
philosophy. It is the fountain of thought, from which must 
flow the stream of invention that is to enrich and fructify the 
world. Who can prophesy the ultimate result of its work? Who 
would limit the bounty which it must confer on mankind? 

The conquest of forest and field, the civilization of man, was 
achieved not by literature, but by labor; not by the wise saws of 
soothsayers, the deductions of moralists, the eloquence of orators, 
or the rhymes of those who "yoked rich words together." A 
half-dozen simple tools tell the story of the early struggles. 
From these, by the cunning of brain and hand, have been evolved 
all the intricate contrivances that now constitute the extended 
paraphernalia of the work-hop. Whoever invented a new device 
and added it to the common stock was the true civilizer. If it 
be a benefaction to mankind to cause two blades of grass to grow 
where before but one had grown, it is no less a benefaction to 
multiply a hundredfold the power of the human arm. 

A country can have no source of power more enduring than a 
body of skilled and well-paid mechanics who, working and 
residing in centres or cities at short and convenient distances 
apart, spend their money in their own localities and furnish the 
most certain, convenient, and profitable market for the products 
of agriculture. I lay it down as a fundamental maxim that the 
highest agricultural prosperity can never be reached except in 
countries which do their own work ; in other words, in countries 
in which manufactures abound and in which the farms feed the 
factories. The law of orderly progress demands that a people 
shall develop all their powers. The aptitude of each will sup- 
plement the aptitudes of the others. 

To secure the largest achievement, manufactures must not only 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 255 

be varied and generally dispersed throughout the country, but it 
is indispensable that they be long continued. The young of each 
generation must live in the presence of work and in the atmos- 
phere of production. They must be accustomed to the hum of 
industry. They must imbibe the spirit of exertion. They must 
grow up amid surroundings that will give them respect for man- 
ual labor, which they must identify with their future as with hon- 
orable and s< if-respecting utility. They must see no debasement 
in the hard hand and the soiled face — these are the "medals" and 
insignia of the new order; they must hear none in the rumble 
of machinery — it is the sign by which they conquer. 

A people accustomed to looking upon these things as humili- 
ating or as involving inferiority, cannot succeed. When men 
realize that there are no divisions in the guild of labor, and that 
all labor is noble and necessary, they will seek that to which 
they are adapted, and will pursue it with zest. For such men 
there is always a future. Zeal is the parent of promotion. Study 
and observation are the handmaids of progress. 

Those who laud the graces of poetry and the charms of rhetoric 
will do well to remember that a machine which runs with rhyth- 
mic beauty and irresistible power is more awe-inspiring, more 
eloquent, more noble, and infinitely more instructive and valuable 
to mankind than any poem ever inscribed. The power-loom, the 
spinning-jenny, the sewing-machine, the reaper, the steam-engine 
have done more to deliver the world from barbarism — to clothe, 
to feed, and to elevate the race morally, intellectually, and physi- 
cally, than all the works of poetry and rhetoric that the world has 
ever seen. The Corliss engine is an Iliad, the locomotive an 
anthem, the sewing-machine an idyl, the reaper an eclogue. These 
are the greatest achievements of man — the richest and ripest 
fruits of his culture and genius. 

Around these will the philosophers and litterateurs of the future 
admiringly cluster. In their praise will the muses sing, the poets 
indite, the seers foretell. In comparison with their deeds how 
insignificant the feats of Hector and Ajax, how repulsive the ex- 
ploits of Alexander and Caesar! 



256 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

THE TEA-KETTLE AND THE CRICKET. 
From the "Cricket on the Hearth." 

BY CHARLES DICKENS. 

The kettle began it! Don't tell me what Mrs. Peerybingle 
said. I know better. Mrs. Peerybingle may leave it on record 
to the end of time that she couldn't say which of them began it; 
but I say the kettle did. I ought to know, I hope ! The kettle 
began it, full five minutes by the little waxy-faced Dutch clock 
in the corner, before the cricket uttered a chirp. Why, I am 
not naturally positive. Every one knows that I wouldn't set 
my own opinion against the opinion of Mrs. Peerybingle, un- 
less I were quite sure, on any account whatever. Nothing should 
induce me. But this is a question of fact. And the fact is that 
the kettle began it at least five minutes before the cricket gave 
any sign of being in existence. Contradict me, and I'll say ten. 

Let me narrate exactly how it happened. I should have pro- 
ceeded to do so, in my very first word, but for this plain con- 
sideration, — if I am to tell a story I must begin at the beginning; 
and how is it possible to begin at the beginning, without be- 
ginning at the kettle? 

It appeared as if there were a sort of match, or trial of skill, 
you must understand, between the kettle and the cricket. And 
this is what led to it, and how it came about. 

Mrs. Peerybingle, going out into the raw twilight and click- 
ing over the wet stones in a pair of pattens that worked innum- 
berable rough impressions of the first proposition in Euclid all 
about the yard, — Airs. Peerybingle filled the kettle at the water- 
butt. Presently returning, less the pattens (and a good deal less, 
for they were tall, and Mrs. Peerybingle was but short), she set 
the kettle on the fire. 

In doing which she lost her temper, or mislaid it for an in- 
stant ; for the water, being uncomfortably cold, and in that slippy, 
slushy, sleety sort of state wherein it seems to penetrate through 
every kind of substance, patten-rings included, had laid hold of 
Mrs. Peerybingle's toes, and even splashed her stockings. 

Besides, the kettle was aggravating and obstinate. It wouldn't 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 257 

allow itself to be adjusted on the top bar; it wouldn't hear of 
accommodating itself kindly to the knobs of coal ; it would lean 
forward with a drunken air, and dribble — a very idiot of a 
kettle — on the hearth. It was quarrelsome, and hissed and sput- 
tered morosely at the fire. 

To sum up all, the lid, resisting Mrs. Peerybingle's fingers, 
first of all turned topsy-turvy, and then, with an ingenious per- 
tinacity deserving of a better cause, dived sideways in, down 
to the very bottom of the kettle ; and the hull of the Royal George 
has never made half of the monstrous resistance in coming out 
of the water which the lid of the kettle employed against Mrs. 
Peerybingle before she got it up again. 

It looked sullen and pig-headed enough, even then, carrying 
its handle with an air of defiance, and cocking its spout pertly 
and mockingly at Mrs. Peerybingle, as if it said, "I won't boil. 
Nothing shall induce me!" 

Now it was, you observe, that the kettle began to spend the 
evening. Now it was that the kettle, growing mellow and mu- 
sical, began to have irrepressible gurglings in the throat, and to 
indulge in short vocal snorts, which it checked in the bud, as 
if it hadn't quite made up its mind yet to be good company. 
Now it was that, after two or three such vain attempts to stifle 
its convivial sentiments, it threw off all moroseness, all reserve, 
and burst into a stream of song so cozy and hilarious as never 
maudlin nightingale yet formed the least idea of. 

And here, if you like, the cricket did chime in with chirrup, 
chirrup, chirrup of such magnitude, by way of chorus, with a 
voice so astoundingly disproportionate to its size, as compared 
with the kettle (size! you couldn't see it!) — that if it had then 
and there burst itself, like an overcharged gun, if it had fallen a 
victim on the spot, and chirruped its little body into fifty pieces, 
it would have seemed a natural and inevitable consequence, for 
which it had expressly labored. 

There was all the excitement of a race about it. Chirp, chirp, 
chirp ! cricket a mile ahead. Hum, hum, hum-m-m ! kettle mak- 
ing play in the distance, like a great top. Chirp, chirp, chirp ! 
cricket round the corner. Hum, hum, hum-m-m ! kettle sticking 
to him in his own way; no idea of giving in. Chirp, chirp, chirp, 
cricket fresher than ever. Hum, hum, hum-m-m ! kettle slow 



258 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

and steady. Chirp, chirp, chirp ! cricket going in to finish him. 
Hum, hum, hum-m-m ! kettle not to be finished. Until at last 
they got so jumbled together, in the hurry-scurry, helter-skelter 
of the match, that whether the kettle chirped and the cricket 
hummed, or the cricket chirped and the kettle hummed, or they 
both chirped and both hummed, it would have taken a clearer 
head than yours or mine to have decided with certainty. 

Of this there is no doubt ; that the kettle and the cricket, at 
one and the same moment, and by some power of amalgamation 
best known to themselves, sent each his fireside song of comfort 
streaming into a ray of the candle that shone out through the 
window, and a long way down the lane. And this light, bursting 
on a certain person, who, on the instant, approached towards it 
through the gloom, expressed the whole thing to him literally 
in a twinkling, and cried. "Welcome home, old fellow! wel- 
come home, my boy!" 

This end attained, the kettle, being dead beat, builed over, and 
was taken off the tire. 



THE SULTAN'S CAREER. 

BY SIR EDWIN ARNOLD. 

On Xew Year's Night, in Eagdad, walked our King, 

Omar (Ibn Al-Khattab, Khalifa he), 

Commander of the Faithful, just and mild, 

With Abu Zeyd, his Minister. And bread 

Was dear, and poor folks suffered, since the rains 

Held off, till, in their grain-pits, dealers hid — 

Like gold and silver — all the corn and rice; 

Yet this the Sultan wist not, wandering 

Full of rich meats, and rosy with good cheer — 

And Abu Zeyd, behind him, fresh from feast — 

At night, in garments such as merchants wear, 

Hither and thither, up and down his town. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 259 

So spied they presently a twinkling fire 
Under a garden wall, whereto they drew, 
Amind to find what wight on such a night 
Made lodging on the chilly waste. They see 
A woman, woe-begone, in hanging rags, 
Who blows, with pinched lips, at the leaves and sticks 
Under an earthen pot, where something boils — 
Or should boil, if that feeble flame would take — 
But while she strives, it dies ; and, at her side, 
Two hungry, wailing children moan anew. 

Then spake the Sultan, "Peace be unto thee ! 
My sister ! what is this thou dost here 
In the hard darkness, and the bitter cold, 
With thy twain babes?" 

"My lord !" the woman said, 
"Fain would I make a drink of water hot 
To warm the bellies of my little ones 
Who die of cold and famine ; but some day 
Allah shall settle this with him who rules, 
Omar the Sultan : He will answer fort 
That my pot boiled not, and we died like dogs." 

And answer gave the Sultan — sorely moved — 
"Think'st thou, O woman ! Omar knoweth this, 
Or, knowing, had not succored?" 

"Sir !" said she, 
"How dares he be a King, and rule our land, 
Holding the place of Allah over us, 
And not be 'ware how these, his mean ones, pinch 
In sight of lavish comfort of his Court, 
In smell of his kab'abs?" 

Then the King cried, 
To Aslam Abu Zeyd, "Come we away! 
I have a thing to do!" So parted those 
Quick for the palace, where they turn anon 



260 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

Into a storeroom. Here our lord dislodged, 
From loaded shelves, a bag of wheaten flour, 
And, from another part, a close-sealed jar 
Of sheep's fat; and some salt, and cinnamon; 
Next, a dry kindling faggot ; "Load thou these," 
Quoth he, "upon my shoulders, Minister !" 

"Allah forbid !" cried Abu Zeyd. "But I 
Will hoist and carry. What! a hamal thou! 
The Emir of Believers !" 

"See now, Friend !" 
Replied the Sultan : "When comes Judgment Day, 
[s it thy back will bear the heavy sack 
Which holds thy Sovereign's bin-?" 

So Abu Zeyd 
Piled on his master mutton- fat and Hour, 
And salt, and cinnamon, and faggot-sticks; 
Which toilfully conveying, while the sweat 
Beaded the royal brow, the Sultan bore 
Back to the wall. There were those three forlorn, 
Mother and babes; and there our lord knelt down, 
And laid the wood fair underneath the pot, 
And set good blaze aglow ; then spread his skirt — 
Of silk, with pearls and turkis round the seams — 
To mix the flour and fat, and knead them in 
With salt and spice and sprinkled water — so 
As ye roll dumplings. Then he thrust them deep 
To bob and bubble in the goodly broth, 
Watched by those three; while, full solicitous, 
Omar— Crowned King of all the shining East— 
On hands and knees blew hard to fan the flame,' 
Scorching his golden beard; till, aptly cooked, 
With point of jeweled sword he spitted each 
And laid it in their laps. So those did eat, 
And eat. and eat again, of mutton-cakes; 
Then, joyful, wandered home, with sack and jar. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 261 

But, backward pacing by his master's side, 
Quoth Zeyd: "Now by His name Who is the Truth! 
The fire hath scorched great holes in beard of thee 
That art the Lord's vice-gerent !" 

Omar said: 
"Peace! It is nothing, Minister; that flame 
Singeing my beard hath lighted up my heart." 



A PLEA FOR CUBAN LIBERTY. 

BY HON. JOHN M. THURSTON. 
[From speech delivered in United States Senate, March 24, i8g8.] 

I am here by command of silent lips 1 to speak once and for 
all upon the Cuban situation. I shall endeavor to be honest, con- 
servative, and just. I have no purpose to stir the public passion 
to any action not necessary and imperative to meet the duties 
and necessities of American responsibility, Christian humanity, 
and national honor. I would shirk this task if I could, but I 
dare not. I cannot satisfy my conscience except by speaking, and 
speaking now. 

I went to Cuba firmly believing that the condition of affairs 
there had been greatly exaggerated by the press, and my own 
efforts were directed in the first instance to the attempted ex- 
posure of these supposed exaggerations. There has undoubtedly 
been much sensationalism in the journalism of the time, but as 
to the condition of affairs in Cuba there has been no exaggera- 
tion, because exaggeration has been impossible. 

L T nder the inhuman policy of Weyler not less than 400,000 self- 
supporting, simple, peaceable, defenceless country people were 
driven from their homes in the agricultural portions of the Span- 
ish provinces to the cities, and imprisoned upon the barren waste 
outside the residence portions of these cities and within the lines 
of intrenchment established a little way beyond. Their humble 



'Mrs. Thurston died in Cuba. Her last request was that her husband should 
do his utmost to secure intervention. 



262 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

homes were burned, their fields laid waste, their implements of 
husbandry destroyed, their live stock and food supplies for the 
most part confiscated. Most of the people were old men, women, 
and children. They were thus placed in hopeless imprisonment, 
without shelter or food. There was no work for them in the 
cities to which they were driven. They were left there with 
nothing to depend upon except the scanty charity of the inhab- 
itants of the cities and with slow starvation their inevitable fate. 

The pictures in the American newspapers of the starving re- 
concentrados are true. They can_all be duplicated by the thou- 
sands. I never saw, and please God I may never again see, so 
deplorable a sight as the reconcentrados in the suburbs of Ma- 
tanzas. I can never forget to my dying day the hopeless 
anguish in their despairing eyes. Huddled about their little 
bark huts, they raised no voice of appeal to us for alms as we 
went among them. Their only appeal came from their sad eyes, 
through which one looks as through an open window into their 
agonizing souls. 

The Government of Spain has not and will not appropriate 
one dollar to save these people. They are now being attended, 
and nursed, and administered to by the charity of the United 
States. Think of the spectacle ! We are feeding these citizens 
of Spain; we are nursing their sick; we are saving such as can 
be saved, and yet there are those who still say it is right for us 
to send food, but we must keep hands off. I say that the time 
has come when muskets must go with the food. We asked the 
governor if he knew of any relief for these people except through 
the charity of the United States. He did not. We asked him, 
"When do you think the time will come that these people can be 
placed in a position of self-support?" He replied to us, with 
deep feeling, "Only the good God or the great Government of 
the United States can answer that question." I hope and believe 
that the good God by the great Government of the United States 
will answer that question. 

I shall refer to these horrible things no further. They are 
there. God pity me ; I have seen them ; they will remain in my 
mind forever — and this is almost the twentieth century. Christ 
died nineteen hundred years ago, and Spain is a Christian nation. 
She has set up more crosses in more lands, beneath more skies, 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 263 

and under them has butchered more people than all the other 
nations of the earth combined. Europe may tolerate her existence 
as long as the people of the Old World wish. God grant that 
before another Christmas morning the last vestige of Spanish 
tyranny and oppression will have vanished from the Western 
Hemisphere. 

I counselled silence and moderation from this floor when the 
passion of the nation seemed at white heat over the destruction 
of the Maine; but it seems to me the time for action has now 
come. No greater reason for it can exist to-morrow "than exists 
to-day. Every hour's delay only adds another chapter to the 
awful story of misery and death. Only one power can intervene 
— the United States of America. Ours is the one great nation 
of the New World, the mother of American republics. She holds 
a position of trust and responsibility toward the peoples and af- 
fairs of the whole Western Hemisphere. It was her glorious 
example which inspired the patriots of Cuba to raise the flag of 
liberty in her eternal hills. We cannot refuse to accept this re- 
sponsibility which the God of the universe has placed upon us as 
the one great power in the New World. We must act ! What 
shall our action be? Some say, The acknowledgment of the 
belligerency of the revolutionists. The hour and the opportunity 
for that have passed away. Others say, Let us by resolution or 
official proclamation recognize the independence of the Cubans. 
It is too late for even such recognition to be of great avail. Others 
say, Annexation to the United States. God forbid ! I would 
oppose annexation with my latest breath. The people of Cuba are 
not our people* ; they cannot assimilate with us; and beyond all 
that, I am utterly and unalterably opposed to any departure from 
the declared policy of the fathers, which would start this re- 
public for the first time upon a career of conquest and dominion 
utterly at variance with the avowed purposes and the manifest 
destiny of popular government. 

There is only one action possible, if any is taken ; that is, inter- 
vention for the independence of the island. Against the inter- 
vention of the United States in this holy cause there is but one 
voice of dissent ; that voice is the voice of the money-changers. 
They fear war ! Not because of any Christian or ennobling senti- 
ment against war and in favor of peace, but because they fear 



264 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

that a declaration of war, or the intervention which might result 
in war, would have a depressing effect upon the stock market. 
Let them go. They do not represent American sentiment ; they 
do not represent American patriotism. Let them take their 
chances as they can. Their weal or woe is of but little impor- 
tance to the liberty-loving people of the United States. They 
will not do the fighting ; their blood will not flow ; they will keep 
on dealing in options on human life. Let the men whose loyalty 
is to the d # ollar stand aside while the men whose loyalty is to the 
flag come to the front. 

There are those who say that the affairs of Cuba are not the 
affairs of the United States; who insist that we can stand idly 
by and see that island devastated and depopulated, its business 
interests destroyed, its commercial intercourse with us cut off, its 
people starved, degraded, and enslaved. It may be the naked 
legal right of the United States to stand thus idly by. I have the 
legal right to pass along the street and see a helpless dog stamped 
into the earth under the heel- of a ruffian. 1 can pass by and 
say, that is not my dog. 1 can sit in my comfortable parlor, and 
through my plate-glass window see a fiend outraging a helpless 
woman near by, and I can legally say, this is no affair of mine — 
it is not happening on my premises. But if I do, I am a coward, 
and a cur. unfit to live, and, God knows, unfit to die. 

And yet I cannot protect the dog nor save the woman without 
the exercise of force. We cannot intervene and save Cuba with- 
out the exercise of force, and force means war; war means blood. 
The lowly Nazarene on the shores of Galilee preached the divine 
doctrine of love, "Peace on earth, good will toward men." Not 
peace on earth at the expense of liberty and humanity. Not good 
will toward men who despoil, enslave, degrade, and starve to 
death their fellow-men. I believe in the doctrine of Christ. I 
believe in the doctrine of peace; but men must have liberty be- 
fore there can come abiding peace. When has a battle for hu- 
manity and liberty ever been won except by force? What barri- 
cade of wrong, injustice, and oppression was ever carried 
except by force ? 

Force compelled the signature of unwilling royalty to the great 
Magna Charta ; force put life into the Declaration of Indepen- 
dence and made effective the Emancipation Proclamation; 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 265 

force waved the flag of revolution over Bunker Hill and marked 
the snows of Valley Forge with blood-stained feet ; force held the 
broken line of Shiloh, climbed the flame-swept hill at Chattanooga, 
and stormed the clouds on Lookout Heights ; force marched with 
Sherman to the sea, rode with Sheridan in the Valley of the 
Shenandoah, and gave Grant victory at Appomattox; force saved 
the Union, kept the stars in the flag, made "niggers" men. The 
time for God's force has come again. Let the impassioned lips of 
American patriots once more take up the song : 

"In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea, 
With a glory in His bosom that transfigured you and me. 
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, 
For God is marching on." 

Others may hesitate, others may procrastinate, others may plead 
for further diplomatic negotiation, which means delay, but for 
me, I am ready to act now, and for my action I am ready to an- 
swer to my conscience, my country, and my God. 



SHYLOCK TO ANTONIO. 

BY WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. 

Signor Antonio, many a time and oft 
In the Rialto you have rated me 
About my moneys and my usances : 
Still I have borne it with a patient shrug; 
For sufferance is the badge of all our tribe. 
You call me misbeliever, cut-throat dog, 
And spit upon my Jewish gaberdine, 
And all for use of that which is mine own. 
Well, then, it now appears, you need my help : 
Go to, then ; you come to me, and you say — 
"Shylock, we would have moneys." You say so; 
You that did void your rheum upon my beard, 
And foot me, as you spurn a stranger cur 



266 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

Over your threshold ; moneys is your suit. 

What should I say to you? Should I not say — 

"Hath a dog^money? Is it possible 

A cur can lend three thousand ducats?" or 

Shall I bend low, and in a bondman's key, 

With bated breath and whispering humbleness, 

Say this — 

"Fair sir, you spit on me on Wednesday last; 

You spurned me such a day; another time 

You called me dog; and for these courtesies 

I'll lend you thus much moneys!" 



TIAXD-CAR 412. 

BY JOHN" HEARD, JR. 
[By permission of the Century and of the author.] 

Matt Murphy was roadmaster at Campbell's Point, on the 
Canadian Pacific Railway. One day. while he was dozing in his 
office, the door opened with a bang, and the operator, in a state 
of breathless excitement, dashed into the room. 

"There's a bush-fire below the long bridge, Mr. Murphy." he 
called out; "the wind is this way. and the Pacific Emigrant is 
due in an hour. What shall we do?" 

Matt started in his chair and repeated the man's words in a 
dazed sort of way. "Bush-fire — and they are due in an hour!" 

Then he got up, staggered across the room, and leaned against 
the wall. The baggage-master, who had overheard, stepped in 
from the adjoining office, and the operator with a shrug of his 
shoulders, turned to him and said in a perplexed way : 

"Murphy's drunk, as usual. What's to be done?" 

"Drunk, you idiot!" cried Xolan, indignantly; "his wife and 
kids are on that train." 

Murphy sprang out on the platform, where the men were col- 
lecting to hear the news. 

"Boys," he cried in a voice that seemed to rasp in his throat, 
"boys, look a-here ! I want three good men to gp to death with 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 267 

me ! Haul up a pumper — 412 ! Catch a hold there ; now heave 
away — so! Drop her on the track — that's it! Slap on the oil, 
you fellows. Two hundred lives ! Good heavens ! Quick ! 
Confound you ! Off with your shirts and hurry ! All aboard ! 
That's the style! Now come along, boys, and work!" . . 

He was the first on the car and took the rear handle behind 
the brake. Long Mike, the Finlander, Jim Reeves and ''Dumb 
Dick" jumped on after him; an oil can, a monkey-wrench and an 
axe were thrown on. The men gave them a shove to start, and 
away they went down the long grade, fifteen miles an hour. 

Matt leaned over and slipped the key of the switch to Jim 
Reeves, who was in front. 

"If we haven't time to unlock her, Jim," he said, so quietly that 
it hurt the men to hear him, "jump on the lever and break the 
chain. Now, fellows, heave away for all you're worth !" 

The first six miles passed quickly; to right and left the road 
and the trees flew backwards, and nothing was heard but the 
short, quick panting of the men, the burr of the cogs, and the 
clickety-click, clickety-click of the wheels over the fish-plates. 
On the half-mile up grade to Bass's Falls they had to slacken 
up a little and hang on the handles, but with their heads down 
and every muscle braced they worked on steadily. The top of 
the grade was reached ; then came a level run of two miles be- 
fore the curve to the bridge. 

"Steady, boys, steady ! and mind the brake, Jim ; we're right on 
the down grade." 

At the end of the level was the grade to the bridge and the 
fire; beyond the fire the bridge, the switch, and the fated train 
with its human cargo hurrying to destruction, for the wind was 
high, and the engineer would naturally think the fire far away 
until he was in the very midst of it. 

Then the struggle began. The smoke ran along the embank- 
ment towards them in great flying gusts, so dense they could 
barely see the platform of the car ; the heat became intense, but 
they never wavered. All around them the trees were falling in 
rows. Great trunks tottered and fell with a booming crash like 
the sound of distant cannon. The hot air quivered around them, 
and they gasped spasmodically and laughed hysterically between 
short howls of pain. Ahead all was red and black — a sea of 



268 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

fire. Murphy called out once more : "Steady, boys, steady !" 
and they plunged into it resolutely, with the desperation of a 
wounded bull charging on the espada's blade. 

"Steady, my men ! up and down, up and down ! stick to her, 
lads; it'll soon be over now." 

Then the flames closed upon them, and as they lowered their 
heads before the whirlwind of fire and smoke that was hurled 
at them they shivered at the crisp crepitation of their hair and 
beards, and felt the hot grip of the fire fasten on them as they 
writhed in pain. Something struck the car, and it reeled for a 
moment. 

"Stand by her, boys; steady there!" They grasped the han- 
dles again and struggled on ; by the hollow sound of the wheels 
they knew that they were on the bridge at last, and it lent them 
fresh strength. Then something struck them hard. 

"Hard, hard at work there! Jim, Mike, Dick — all of you! — 
pump away, for Heaven's sake, boys! we are nearly there. Try 
again! the switch, boys, mind the switch! All together now, 
heave!" 

But strain as they might — and they strained with a fierce, des- 
perate energy, for there was something in Murphy's tone that 
went to their hearts — the car was fast and would not move. Then 
they heard a wild cry above the thundering crash of the bridge 
as it fell from under them ; the car was suddenly shot ahead and 
sprang away easily over the debris that lay across the iron. The 
trestle was passed ; but at the rear handle Mike stood alone ; his 
partner. Matt Murphy, was gone ; that last falling brace had struck 
him squarely across the arms, and when he saw that he could no 
longer pull his weight, he jumped off and put all his remaining 
strength in that last push that sent them through into the com- 
parative quiet beyond. 

"Steady, boys, and Heaven be with you !" came once more from 
out the chaos of flames behind them, and that was all. On the 
other side, beyond the clay cut, they heard the bellowing whistle 
of the engine ; a few more strokes, and they reached the switch. 

"Jump, Jim; for Heaven's sake, jump quick!" 

The next moment the train swept round the curve over the 
frog and glided smoothly down the siding, where it stopped; but 
the hand-car had disappeared. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 269 

When they came back they found Jim Reeves's body by the 
broken lever of the switch ; Long Mike, too, they picked up beside 
him, with a shattered leg and an ugly gash across the forehead., 
while, on the other side of the track, "Dumb Dick" was clutch- 
ing tne broken handle of the hand-car and sobbing like a child. 

Strong men lifted their crushed bodies with tender care, and 
side by side they laid them on a bed of fragrant balsam boughs ; 
a woman's light hand wiped away the blood from Mike's rough 
face and held moist linen to his bleeding brow. Soon he opened 
his eyes and looked solemnly, with a puzzled expression, into 
the anxious faces of the women and children that stood around 
him, silently watching for his recovery. Then he remembered 
all ; for a moment a bright smile lit up his plain features and 
died away slowly as he caught sight of his companions stretched 
beside him. With a slight quiver, Long Mike passed away to 
join his comrades. 

Of the four brave men who so nobly risked their lives, to save 
the fated train, "Dumb Dick" was the only one left to tell the 
awful story. 



THE MARCH OF COMPANY A. 

BY KATE PUTNAM OSGOOD. 

[From the Century, by permission of the authors and the publishers.] 

"Forward, march !" was the captain's word, 
And the tramp of a hundred men was heard. 
As they formed into line, in the morning gray, 
Shoulder to shoulder went Company A. 

Out of the shadow into the sun, 
A hundred men that moved as one; 
Out of the dawning into the day, 
A glittering file went Company A. 

Marching along to the rendezvous 
By grassy meadows the road ran through, 
By springing cornfields and orchards gay, 
Forward, forward, went Company A. 



270 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

And the pink and white of the apple trees, 
Falling fast on the fitful breeze, 
Scattered its dewy, scented spray 
Straight in the faces of Company A. 

A breath like a sigh ran through the ranks 
Treading those odorous blossom-banks 
For the orchard hillsides far away, 
The northern hillsides of Company A. 

"Forward, march!" — and the dream was sped; 
Out of the pine wood straight ahead 
Clattered a troop of the Southern gray 
Face to face with Company A. 

Forth with a flash in the Southern sun 
A hundred bayonets leaped like one. 
Sudden drum-beat and bugle-play 
Sounded the charge for Company A. 

"Halt!"' What is here? A slumbering child, 
Roused by the blast of the bugle wild, 
Between the ranks of the blue and gray, 
Right in the path of Company A. 

Nothing knowing of North or South, 
Her dimpled finger within her mouth, 
Her gathered apron with blossoms gay, 
She stared at the guns of Company A. 

Straightway set for a sign of truce 
Whitely a handkerchief fluttered loose, 
As under the steel of the Southern gray 
Galloped the captain of Company A. 

To his saddle-bow he swung the child, 
With a kiss on the baby lips that smiled, 
While the boys in blue and the boys in gray 
Cheered for the captain of Company A. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS, 271 

Forth from the ranks of "his halted men, 
While the wild hurrahs rang out again, 
The Southern leader spurred his way 
To meet the captain of Company A. 

Out of the arms that held her safe 
He took with a smile the little waif. 
A grip of the hand 'twixt blue and gray, 
And back rode the captain of Company A. 

Up there, in the distant cottage door, 
A mother, clasping her child once more, 
Shuddered at sight of the smoke-cloud gray 
Shrouding the path of Company A. 

A little later, and all was done — 
The battle over, the victory won. 
Nothing left of the pitiless fray 
That swept the ranks of Company A. 

Nothing left — save the bloody stain 
Darkening the orchard's rosy rain. 
Dead the chief of the Southern gray, 
And dead the captain of Company A. 

Fallen together the gray and blue, 

Gone to the final rendezvous. 

A grave to cover, a prayer to say. 

And — "Forward, march !" went Company A. 



LIBERTY. 



BY HOX. CHAUNCEY M. DEPEW. 



[From oration delivered at the unveiling of the Bartholdi Statue, October 
28, 1SS6.] 

The spirit of liberty embraces all races in common brother- 
hood ; it voices in all languages the same needs and aspirations. 
The full power of its expansive and progressive influence can- 



272 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

not be reached until wars cease, armies are disbanded, and inter- 
national disputes are settled by lawful tribunals and the prin- 
ciples of justice. Then the people of every nation, secure from 
invasion and free from the burdens and menace of great arma- 
ments, can calmly and dispassionately promote their own happi- 
ness and prosperity. The marvellous development and progress 
of the Republic is due to the fact that in rigidly adhering to the 
advice of Washington for absolute neutrality and non-interfer- 
ence in the politics and policies of other governments, we have 
avoided the necessity of depleting .our industries to feed our 
armies, of taxing and impoverishing our resources to carry on 
war, and of limiting our liberties to concentrate power in our 
government. Our great civil strife with all its expenditures of 
blood and treasure, was a terrible sacrifice for freedom. The 
results are so immeasurably great that by comparison the cost is 
insignificant. The development of liberty was impossible while 
she was shackled to the slave. The divine thought which in- 
trusted to the conquered the full measure of home rule, and ac- 
corded to them an equal share of imperial power, was the in- 
spiration of God. With sublime trust it left to liberty the eleva- 
tion of the freedman to political rights and the conversion of the 
rebel to patriotic citizenship. 

The rays from this torch illuminate a century of unbroken 
friendship between France and the United States. Peace and its 
opportunities for material progress and the expansion of popular 
liberties send from here a fruitful and noble lesson to all the 
world. It will teach the people of all countries that in curbing 
the ambitions and dynastic purposes of princes and privileged 
classes, and in cultivating the brotherhood of man, lies the true 
road to their enfranchisement. The friendship of individuals, 
their unselfish devotion to each other, their willingness to die in 
each other's stead, are the most tender and touching of human 
records ; they are the inspiration of youth and the solace of old 
age ; but nothing human is so beautiful and sublime as two great 
peoples of alien race and language transmitting down the ages 
a love begotten in gratitude and strengthening as they increase 
in power and assimilate in their institutions and liberties. 

The French alliance which enabled us to voice our indepen- 
dence is the romance of history. It overcame improbabilities im- 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 273 

possible in fiction, and its results surpass the dreams of imagina- 
tion. The most despotic of kings, surrounded by the most ex- 
clusive of feudal aristocracies, sending fleets and armies officered 
by the scions of the proudest of nobilities to fight for subjects in 
revolt and the liberties of the common people, is a paradox be- 
yond the power of mere human energy to have wrought or solved. 
The march of this mediaeval chivalry across our States — respect- 
ing persons and property as soldiers never had before ; never tak- 
ing an apple or touching a fence-rail without permission and 
payment ; treating the ragged Continentals as if they were knights 
in armor and of noble ancestry; captivating our grandmothers by 
their courtesy and our grandfathers by their courage, remains un- 
equalled in the poetry of war. It is the most magnificent tribute 
in history to the volcanic force of ideas and the dynamic power 
of truth, though the crust of the globe imprison them. In the 
same ignorance and fearlessness with which a savage plays about 
a powder magazine with a torch, the Bourbon King sought relief 
from cloying pleasures, and vigor for enervated minds, in permit- 
ting and encouraging the loftiest genius and the most impassioned 
eloquence of the time to discuss the rights and liberties of man. 
With the orator the themes were theories which fired only his 
imagination, and with a courtier they were pastimes or jests. 
Neither speakers nor listeners saw any application of their ennob- 
ling sentiments to the common mass and grovelling herd, whose 
industries they squandered in riot and debauch and whose bodies 
they hurled against battlement and battery to gratify ambition 
or caprice. But these revelations illuminated many an ingenious 
soul among the young aristocracy, and with distorted rays pene- 
trated the Cimmerian darkness which developed the people. They 
bore fruit in the mind and heart of one youth to whom America 
owes much and France everything, the Marquis de La Fayette.. 

As the centuries roll by and in the fulness of time the rays of 
Liberty's torch are the beacon-lights of the world, the central 
niches in the earth's Pantheon of Freedom will be filled by the 
figures of Washington and La Fayette. 

I devoutly believe that from the Unseen and the Unknown two 
great souls have come to participate in this celebration, the faith 
in which they died fulfilled, the cause for which they battled tri- 
umphant, the people they loved in the full enjoyment of the rights 



274 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

for which they labored and fought and suffered, the spirit voices 
of Washington and La Fayette join in the glad acclaim of France 
and the United States to Liberty Enlightening the World. 



WHIP POOR WILL. 

BY M. M. FOLSOM. 

When purpling shadows westward creep 
And stars through crimson curtains peep, 
And south winds sing themselves to sleep; 
From woodlands heavy with perfume 
Of spicy bud and April bloom 
Comes through the tender twilight gloom, 

Music most mellow, 

"Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 

Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 
Whip po' Will. Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will— Will, oh!" 

The bosom of the brook is filled 

With new alarm, the forest thrilled 
With startled echoes, and most skilled 
To run a labyrinthine race. 
The fireflies light their lamps to chase 
The culprit through the darkling space — 

Mischievous fellow, 

'AVhip po' Will— Will, oh! 

Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 
Whip po' Will. Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will— Will, oh!" 

From hill to hill the echoes fly, 
The marshy brakes take up the cry. 
And where the slumbering waters lie 
In calm respose, and slyly feeds 
The snipe among the whispering reeds. 
The tale of this wild sprite's misdeeds 
Troubles the billow, 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 275 

"Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 
Whip po' Will— Will, oh ! 
W r hip po' Will, Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will— Will, oh !" 

And where is he of whom they speak? 
Is he just playing the hide and seek, 
Among the thickets up the creek? 
Or is he resting from his play 
In some cool grotto, far away, 
Where lullaby crooning zephyrs stray, 

Smoothing his pillow, 

"Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 

Whip po' Will— Will, oh! 
Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will, Whip po' Will— Will, oh!" 



THE SERMON ON THE MOUNT. 

FROM THE BIBLE. 

Blessed are the poor in spirit : for theirs is the kingdom of 
heaven. 

Blessed are they that mourn : for they shall be comforted. 

Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 

Blessed are they which do hunger and thirst after righteous- 
ness : for they shall be filled. 

Blessed are the merciful : for they shall obtain mercy. 

Blessed are the pure in heart : for they shall see God. 

Blessed are the peacemakers : for they shall be called the chil- 
dren of God. 

Blessed are they which are persecuted for righteousness' sake : 
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. 

Blessed are ye, when men shall revile ye, and persecute you, 
and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. 

Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in 
heaven : for so persecuted they the prophets which were before 
you. 

Ye are the salt of the earth : but if the salt have lost his savour, 



276 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

wherewith shall it be salted? it is thenceforth good for nothing, 
but to be cast out, and to be trodden under foot of men. 

Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill can 
not be hid. 

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but 
on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the 
house. 

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your 
good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven. 

Think not that I am come to destroy the law, or the prophets : 
I am not come to destroy but to fulfil. 

For verily 1 say unto you, Till Heaven and earth pass, one jot 
or one tittle shall in no wise pass from the law, till all be ful- 
filled. 

Whosoever therefore shall break one of these least command- 
ments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the 
kingdom of heaven: but whosoever shall do and teach them, the 
same shall be called great in the kingdom of heaven. 

Fur I say unto you, That except your righteousness shall ex- 
ceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no 
case enter into the kingdom of heaven. 

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt 
not kill; and whosoever shall kill shall be in danger of the judg- 
ment : But I say unto you, That whosoever is angry with his 
brother without a cause shall be in danger of the judgment: and 
whosoever shall say to his brother, Raca. shall be in danger of the 
council ; but whosoever shall say, Thou fool, shall be in danger 
of hell fire. 

Therefore, if thou bring thy gift to the altar, and there remem- 
berest that thy brother hath aught against thee; 

Leave there thy gift before the altar, and go thy way; first be 
reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy gift. 

Agree with thine adversary quickly, while thou art in the way 
with him; lest at any time the adversary deliver thee to the judge, 
and the judge deliver thee to the officer, and thou be cast into 
prison. 

Verily I say unto thee, Thou shalt by no means come out thence, 
till thou has paid the uttermost farthing. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 277 

Ye have heard that it was said by them of old time, Thou shalt 
not commit adultery : 

But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to 
lust after her hath committed adultery with her already in his 
heart. 

And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from 
thee : for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should 
perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. 

And if thy right hand offend thee, cut it off, and cast it from 
thee : for it is profitable for thee that one of thy members should 
perish, and not that thy whole body should be cast into hell. 

It hath been said, Whosoever shall put away his wife, let him 
give her a writing of divorcement : 

But I say unto you, That whosoever shall put away his wife, 
saving for the cause of fornication, causeth her to commit adul- 
tery : and whosoever shall marry her that is divorced committeth 
adultery. 

Again, ye have heard that it hath been said by them of old 
time, Thou shalt not forswear thyself, but shalt perform unto the 
Lord thine oaths: 

But I say unto you, Swear not at all; neither by heaven; for it 
is God's throne : 

Nor by the earth ; for it is his footstool : neither by Jerusalem ; 
for it is the city of the great King. 

Neither shalt thou swear by thy head, because thou canst not 
make one hair white or black. 

But let your communication be, Yea, yea ; Nay, nay : for what- 
soever is more than these cometh of evil. 

Ye have heard that it hath been said, An eye for an eye, and a 
tooth for a tooth : 

But I say unto you, That ye resist not evil : but whosoever 
shall smite thee on thy right cheek, turn to him the other also. 

And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy 
coat, let him have thy cloak also. 

And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him 
twain. 

Give to him that asketh thee, and from him that would borrow 
of thee turn not thou away. 



278 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

Ye have heard that it hath been said, Thou shalt love thy neigh- 
bor, and hate thine enemy. 

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse 
you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which 
despitefully use you, and persecute you ; 

That ye may be the children of your Father which is in heaven : 
for he maketh his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, and 
sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust. 

For if ye love them which love you, what reward have ye? do 
not even the publicans the same? 

And if ye salute your brethren only, what do ye more than 
others? do not even the publicans so? 

Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven 
is perfect. 



FRANCE AMJ ROCHAMBEAU 

BY HON. HENRY CABOT LODGE. 

[From address delivered at the unveiling of the statue of Rochambeau. at 
Washington, May 25, 

Again France appears upon the continent where for many years 
she had played such a great part and had fought so bravely and 
so unavailingly for dominion. The opportunity had come to 
wreak an ample vengeance on the power which had driven her 
from Canada. France would have been more or less than human 
if she had not grasped the opportunity at once so satisfying to 
wounded pride and so promising politically. Covertly at first 
she aided the English colonies, and after the surrender of Bur- 
govne at Saratoga the treaty of alliance was signed and France 
entered into war with Great Britain. The French government 
aided us with money and with men, by land and by sea, but the 
decisive force was that which landed at Newport in the long July 
days of 1780. 

To that brave, well-officered, highly disciplined army we raise 
a monument to-day by placing here in the nation's capital the 
statue of its commander. For their service and for his own we 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 279 

owe him a debt of gratitude for which we should here make last- 
ing acknowledgment, one which will stand unchanged beneath 
the sunshine and the rain long after the words we speak shall 
have been forgotten. 

Rochambeau reached the United States at a dark hour for the 
American cause. The first fervor of resistance had cooled, the 
active fighting had subsided in the North, Congress had grown 
feeble and inert, government and finance both dragged heavily 
and it seemed as if the revolution so successful in the field would 
founder upon the rocks of political and executive incapacity. 
Washington and the army in the midst of almost unparalleled 
difficulties alone kept the cause alive. 

It was a great relief to the heavily burdened General to meet 
such a man as Rochambeau, and yet even then as he turned back 
with lightened heart and lifted hopes the news of Arnold's trea- 
son smote him on his arrival at West Point. The summer had 
gone and nothing had been done. Then Rochambeau was unwill- 
ing to move without further reinforcements, and Washington 
was struggling desperately to wring from a hesitating Congress 
and from reluctant States the men, money and supplies abso- 
lutely essential, if the great opportunity which had now come 
was not to pass away unused. So the winter wore on and the 
spring came, and in May Washington and Rochambeau were 
again in consultation. Washington was determined to strike a 
fatal blow somewhere. 

But the one vital condition was still lacking. Washington 
knew that he must command the sea, if only for a month, at the 
point where he was to deliver the decisive blow. So the days 
slipped by, the summer waned, and then of a sudden the great 
condition sprang into life. De Grasse, to whom we owe a debt 
as great as to Rochambeau, appeared in the Chesapeake with his 
fleet. No longer was there room for doubt. Cornwallis in Vir- 
ginia was clearly now the quarry for the allied forces. 

Time forbids me to tell the brilliant story of that campaign ; 
of the manner in which De Grasse was induced to bring his 
squadron from the North; of the adroitness with which Clinton 
was deceived in New York ; of the skill and rapidity with which 
the French and American armies were hurried from New York 
to the Chesapeake and thence to Yorktown. The great, the 



280 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

golden moment so longed for by Washington, when he could 
unite both land and sea power, had at last arrived. 

Through all the months of weary waiting, through the weeks 
of rapid march and the hurrying days of siege and battle there 
shine out very brightly the fine qualities of the French general. 
Nothing is more difficult than the management in war of allied 
forces. Here there was never a jar. Rochambeau was large- 
minded enough to understand the greatness of Washington, to 
realize the height of mind and the power of character which in- 
vested the American leader with a dignity beyond aught that 
royal birth or kingly title could confer. No small jealousies 
marred their intercourse. They wrought together for a common 
cause. 

Across the square there stands the statue of La Fayette. He 
brought no army like Rochambeau; no fleet like De Grasse. He 
came by no command of his King. Yet has he always been 
nearer to the hearts of American- than any man not of their own 
people. The reason is not far to seek. He came of his own ac- 
cord, and brought with him the sympathy of France. He repre- 
sented the new spirit of a new time. Purposes of state, calcula- 
tions of chances, selfish desires might guide the French govern- 
ment, but La Fayette was the living embodiment of the sympathy 
of the French people for the cause of the United States. He 
came because he loved the cause and had faith in it, and so the 
American people gave faith and love to him. 

We unveil this statue in honor of a brave soldier who fought 
by the side of Washington. We place it here to keep his memory 
fresh in remembrance and as a monument of our gratitude to 
France. But let us not forget that we also commemorate here 
the men who first led in arms the democratic movement which 
during a century of conflict has advanced the cause of freedom 
and popular government throughout the world of Western civil- 
ization. 

THE OTHER SIDE OF THE CASE. 

BY ELEANOR KIRK. 

I've nothing to say, John Henry, nothing at all to say ; 

For what's the use of shouting when a whirlwind's under way? 

And when the blizzard's ever the mischief will be done; 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 281 

Then 'twill be too late to talk, though the trouble's just begun. 
You're anxious now for my advice; 'twould make a dead man 

grin, 
Who'd danced to the usual fiddling in this rare old world of sin, 
To hear the same old story, and told in the same old way; 
I've nothing to say, John Henry, nothing at all to say. 

It isn't so long ago, my boy, not so very long ago, 

That I stood before my father, in the self-same way you know. 

I was mad in love, you rascal, and she was gone on me, 

And before we'd asked permission we'd pledged ourselves, you 

see, 
To walk barefoot through Tophet if the old folks made a row, — 
And that's exactly what you've done, I'd take my solemn vow. 
It's only just a change in time, yesterday and to-day: 
I've nothing to say, John Henry, nothing at all to say. 

It wouldn't have done a bit of good if my father had preached 

to me ; 
The old man knew it well enough, and so he let me be. 
But tears were in his eyes, my boy, his voice was strained and 

low, 
As he took me by the arm and said : "I loved your mother so, 
And yet I made her life a hell for twenty years or more, 
Till the Lord got tired of seeing it, and opened wide the door. 
You've got the same blood in you, the same provoking way: 
I've nothing to say, John Henry, nothing at all to say." 

I called the old man a croaker, exactly as you'll call me ; 
But time avenged the epithet — a prophet he proved to be. 
And now the scene's repeated, and the story I could tell : 
If 'twas any use to do it, would match your granddad's well. 
'Twas billiards, club, and whiskey : the blizzard of love was past, 
And I. a man and a husband, with a woman shackled fast, 
Was free to do as I fancied — I did it night and day: 
I've nothing to say, John Henry, nothing at all to say. 

In Heaven's name, what is it that makes us men so blind, 
So careless, so indifferent, so brutally unkind? 



282 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

I can see your mother now in her loneliness and pain, 

As she watched for my home-coming, through the tears that fell 

like rain. 
I called it foolish sniffling, and then she'd try to smile, 
And tell me how she loved me, a-sobbing all the while. 
My God ! I see her sweet dead face a thousand times a day ! 
I've nothing to say. John Henry, nothing at all to say. 



THE RELIGION OF TROOPER PETER HALKET. 

A Story of South Africa. 

BY OLIVE SCHREINER. 

A great stillness settled down on the camp; except where the 
sentinel paced up and down before the captain's tent nol a creature 
stirred. The midday heat was intense. 

At last there was a sound of some one breaking through the 
long grass and bushes. The figure of a man emerged, bearing in 
one hand a gun. and in the other a bird which he had shot. He 
was evidently an Englishman. 

He came up to the Colonial and dropped the bird before him. 
"That is all I've got," he said. 

The Colonial raised his head, and, without taking his elbows 
from the ground, took up the bird. "I'll put it into the pot," 
he said. '"Knocked out?" 

"Oh. no. I can stand it well enough. What's Halket doing 
over there?" 

"He and the Captain had a row this morning." 

The Englishman looked keenly over the bushes where Halket's 
bent head might be seen as he paced to and fro. 

"What's he doing out there in the blazing sun?" 

"He's on sruard." said the Colonial. "You see, some of the 
men went down into the river to look for fresh pools of water, 
and they found ? nigsrer hidden away in a hole in the bank not 
five hundred yards from here! He'd evidently been there a long 
time. The floor was full of fish bones he'd caught in the pool, 
and a bit of root like a stick, half-gnawed through. He'd got 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 283 

two bullet wounds in the thigh, but he could walk already. It's 
evident he was just waiting till we were gone to clear off after 
his people. Well, they hauled him up before the Captain, and 
he said the nigger was a spy, and was to be hanged to-morrow. 
He made the fellows tie him up to that little tree yonder, with 
riems around his legs, and riems around his waist, and a riem 
around his neck." 

"What did the native say?," csked the Englishman. 

"Oh, he didn't say anything. There wasn't a soul in the camp 
coufd have understood him if he had. He didn't try to fight 
when the boys caught him; just stared in front of him. Well, 
we'd just got him fixed up, and the captain was just going into 
his tent to have a drink when up steps Halket, and pulls his front 
lock. He begins, 'Sir, may I speak to you?' in a formal kind of 
way, like a fellow introducing a deputation, and then all of a 
sudden starts off; you never heard such a thing! — How did we 
know this nigger was a spy at all. It would be a terrible thing 
to kill him if we weren't quite sure. Perhaps he was hiding there 
because he was wounded. And then he broke out that, after all, ' 
these niggers were men fighting for their country. We would 
fight against the French if they came and took England from 
us ; and the niggers were brave men. Every five minutes he'd 
pull his forelock, and say 'please, sir' — and if we have to fight 
against them we ought to remember they're fighting for freedom. 
We shouldn't shoot wounded prisoners when they were black 
if we wouldn't shoot them if they were white ! And then he 
broke out with a pure unmitigated Exeter Hall ! All men were 
brothers, and God loved a black man as well as a white. We 
ought to give him food for the road, and tell him to go back 
to his people, and tell them we hadn't come to take their land, 
but to teach them and love them. 'It's hard to love a nigger, 
Captain,' he said, 'but we must try it !' 'I'm an unlearned, igno- 
rant man, Captain, but I must stand by this nigger. He's got no 
one else !' And then he says : 'If you let me take him up to 
Lo Magundis. sir; I'm not afraid, and I'll tell the people there 
it's not their land and their women we want. It's them to be 
our brothers and love us. If you'll only let me go, sir, I'll go and 
make peace. Give the man to me, sir!'" The Colonial shook 
with laughter. 



284 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

"What did the Captain say?" asked the Englishman. 

"The Captain! Well, he just stood there, with his arms hang- 
ing down at each side of him, and his eyes staring, and his face 
getting redder and redder; and as soon as Halket turned away 
he started swearing, but he got the tail of one oath hooked on to 
the head of another. And when he'd finished and got sane a bit, 
he said Halket was to walk up and down there all day and keep 
watch on the nigger. And he gave orders that if the big troop 
didn't come up to-night that first thing in the morning Halket 
was to shoot him." 

That evening the men sat eating their suppers round the fires; 
the big Colonial ladled out the mealies and rice into tin plates, 
and passed them round to the men. Presently he passed one to 
Halket, who lay half behind him. leaning on his elbow. For a 
while Halket ate nothing, then he took a few mouthfuls, and 
again lay on his elbow. 

"You are eating nothing, Halket," said the Englishman, 
cheerily. 

"I am not hungry now," he said. After a while he took out his 
red handkerchief, and emptied carefully into it the contents of 
the plate, and tied it up into a bundle. He set it beside him on 
the ground, and again lay on his elbow. 

After a while he took out from his belt a small hunting-knife, 
with a rough, wooden handle. A small flat stone lay near him, 
and he passed the blade slowly up and down on it, now and then 
taking it up, and feeling the edge with his finger. After a while 
he put it back in his belt, and rose slowly, taking up his small 
bundle, and walked away to the tent. 

At ten o'clock all the camp was asleep, excepting the two men 
told off to keep guard. In the Captain's tent a light was kept 
burning all night. By half-past one the moon had gone down. 

Then Peter Halket rose up; softly he lifted the canvas and 
crept out. On his arm was tied his red handkerchief with its 
contents. On tiptoe he followed the little footpath that the men 
had trodden going down to the river for water. It led straight 
up to the Captain's tent, and the little flat-topped tree before it, 
with its white stem, and its two gnarled branches spread out on 
either side. Far over the other side of the camp the two men 
who were on guard stood chatting by the fire. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 285 

For a moment Peter Halket stood motionless; then he walked 
up to the tree. The black man hung against the white stem, so 
closely bound to it that they seemed one. His hands were tied 
to his sides, and his head drooped to his breast. The riems had 
cut a little into his ankles, and a small flow of blood had made 
the ground below his feet dark. 

Peter Halket touched him softly on the arm, then shook it 
slightly. The man opened his eyes slowly and looked at Peter 
from under his weary eyebrows. 

Peter put up his fingers to his own lips — "Hus-h! hus-h !" he 
said. 

The man hung torpid, still looking at Peter. Quickly Peter 
Halket knelt down, and took the knife from his belt. In an 
instant the riems that bound the feet were cut through; in 
another he had cut the riems from the waist and neck. The 
riems dropped to the ground from the arms, and the man stood 
free. Like a dazed, dumb creature he stood, with his head still 
down, eyeing Peter. 

Instantly Peter slipped the red bundle from his arm into the 
man's passive hand. 

"Hamba ! Sucka ! Go !" he whispered, motioning with his 
hand. 

In an instant a gleam of intelligence shot across the face, then a 
wild transport. Without a word, without a sound, as the tiger 
leaps when the wild dogs are on it. with one long, smooth spring, 
as though unwounded and unhurt, he turned and disappeared into 
the grass. It closed behind him, but as he went the twigs and 
leaves cracked under his tread. 

The Captain threw back the door of his tent. 

"Who is there?" he cried. 

Peter Halket stood below the tree with the knife in his hand. 

And one hour after Peter Halket had stood outside the tent, 
looking up at the stars he was lying under the little tree, with the 
red sand trodden down over him, in which a black man's and a 
white man's blood were mingled. 



286 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

THE FORGING OF THE ANCHOR. 

BY SAMUEL FERGUSON. 

Come, see the Dolphin's anchor forged ; 'tis at a white heat now ; 
The bellows ceased, the flames decreased; though on the forge's 

brow 
The little flames still fitfully play through the sable mound; 
And fitfully you still may see the grim smiths ranking round, 
All clad in leathern panoply, their broad hands only bare; 
Some rest upon their sledges here, some work the windlass there. 

The windlass strains the tackle chains, the black mound heaves 

below, 
And red and deep a hundred veins burst out at every throe; 
It rises, mar-, rends all outright — O Vulcan, what a glow! 
'Tis blinding white, 'tis blasting bright; the high sun shines not 

so: 
The high sun sees not, on the earth, such fiery, fearful show; 
The roof-ribs swarth, the candent hearth, the ruddy, lurid row 
Of smiths, that stand, an ardent band, like men before the foe; 
As, quivering through his fleece of flame, the sailing monster 

slow 
Sinks on the anvil — all about the faces fiery grow — 
"Hurrah!*' they shout — "leap out! — leap out!" bang, bang, the 

sledges go. 

Leap out, leap out, my masters ! leap out and lay on load ! 
Let's forge a goodly anchor, a bower, thick and broad 
For a heart of oak is hanging on every blow, I bode, 
And I see the good ship riding, all in a perilous road; 
The low reef roaring on her lee, the roll of ocean poured 
From stem to stern, sea after sea, the main-mast by the board ; 
The bulwarks down, the rudder gone, the boats stove at the 

chains ; 
But courage still, brave mariners, the bower yet remains. 
And not an inch to flinch he deigns save when ye pitch sky-high. 
Then moves his head, as though he said, "Fear nothing — here 

am I !" 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 287 

Swing in your strokes in order, let foot and hand keep time, 
Your blows make music sweeter far than any steeple's chime; 
But while ye swing your sledges, sing; and let the burden be, 
The anchor is the anvil king, and royal craftsmen we. 
Strike in, strike in; the sparks begin to dull their rustling red; 
Our hammers ring with sharper din, our work will soon be sped ; 
Our anchor soon must change his bed of fiery, rich array, 
For a hammock at the roaring bows, or an oozy couch of clay; 
Our anchor soon must change the lay of merry craftsmen here, 
For the yeo-heave-o, and the heave away, and the sighing sea- 
man's cheer. 

In livid and obdurate gloom, he darkens down at last, 
A shapely one he is and strong, as e'er from cat was cast. 
A trusted and trustworthy guard, if thou had'st life like me, 
What pleasures would thy toils reward beneath the deep-green 
sea ! 

O deep-sea diver, who might then behold such sights as thou ? 
The hoary monster's palaces! methinkst what joy 'twere now 
To go plump, plunging down amid the assembly of the whales, 
And feel the churned sea round me boil beneath their scourging 

tails ! 
Then deep in tanglewoods to fight the fierce sea-unicorn, 
And send him foiled ?nd bellowing back, for all his ivory horn; 
To leave the subtle sworder-fish, of bony blade forlorn, 
And for the ghastly grinning shark, to laugh his jaws to scorn. 

O broad-armed fisher of the deep, whose sports can equal thine? 
The Dolphin weighs a thousand tons, that tugs thy cable line ; 
And night by night 'tis thy delight, thy glory day by day. 
Through sable sea and breaker white, the giant game to play; 
But, shamer of our little sports, forgive the name I gave ; 
A fisher's joy is to destroy — thine office is to save. 

O lodger in the sea-king's halls, couldst thou but understand 
"Whose be the white bones by thy side, or who that dripping band, 
Slow swaying in the heaving wave, that round about thee bend, 



288 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

With sounds like breakers in a dream, blessing their ancient 

friend; 
O couldst thou know what heroes glide with larger steps round 

thee, 
Thine iron side would swell with pride, thou'dst leap within the 

sea! 

Give honor to their memories, who left the pleasant strand 

To shed their blood so freely for\he love of Fatherland — 

Who left their chance of quiet age and grassy churchyard grave 

So freely for a restless bed amid the tossing wave — 

O, though our anchor may not be all I have fondly sung, 

Honor him for their memory, whose bones he goes among! 



GOOD COURAGE. 

BY REV. JOHN \V. CHADWICK. 
[Extract from sermon delivered in Brooklyn, N. Y., October, 1899.] 

Hero worship comes as easy to mankind as stars to nightfall 
or as fragrance to the rose. It is frequently pathetic, sometimes 
tragical, to observe out of what stuff the hero is made. 

In the case of Admiral Dewey, it would certainly appear that 
there is no incongruity between the popular hero and the 
actual man ; or, if any, that the actual man, in his simplicity and 
quietness and large humanity, is greater than the hero as popu- 
larly conceived or concretely realized. The popular estimate has 
been somewhat misplaced, in that the significance of his distin- 
guished victory was not so much in its quality of heedless daring 
as in its quality of foresight and its calculation of the means pro- 
portioned to the end. Had Dewey, as the popular imagination 
has conceived, rushed pell-mell into Manila Bay, regardless of 
the possible torpedoes that might blow his vessels heaven high, 
and equally regardless of the strength and character of the enemy 
awaiting him off Cavite, his courage would have been fool-cour- 
age, his victory would have been a piece of luck entirely unde- 
served. Much risk there was, no doubt, but the good general or 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 289 

naval commander, when any choice is left him, is bound to have 
good reasons for believing that he will succeed before he hurls 
his army or his ships upon the embattled foe. What we praise 
Admiral Dewey for is for understanding his business and doing 
it promptly and effectively. 

That the form of courage which manifests itself in war has im- 
mense attractions for a great many people, old and young, there 
is not the slightest doubt. War is as much as slavery zcas a sur- 
vival in culture, a relic of barbarism. But, as in slavery there 
were elements which to some people are so attractive in the retro- 
spect that they weep for the departed days, so it is with war. 
It affords an opportunity for the display of virtues of the finest 
quality. Courage is only one of these. It was on the field of 
battle that Sir Philip Sidney waved generously aside the cup 
of cold water that would have quenched his raging thirst, saying, 
as he did so, of the common soldier to whom he surrendered it, 
"His necessity is greater than mine." Doubtless our own recent 
wars in Cuba and Luzon have witnessed many things as beautiful 
as that. Because the temptations of war, of military life, are so 
strong to intemperance and licentiousness and to a general deca- 
dence of a well-ordered life, it is all the more creditable for the 
soldier to keep his speech and body clean, to refrain from dissipa- 
tion and debauchery. Honor to these — a large and goodly com- 
pany — who pluck this Edelweiss, this flower of noble purity, from 
out the dangerous nettle which grows rank where armies trail 
along! But this snowy flower is not the natural bloom of war's 
empurpled sod. To think it so were absurd as to suppose that 
Abraham Lincoln's greatness of soul was the natural bloom of 
that environment so squalid and so mean in which he passed his 
boyhood and his youth. 

But the courage which manifests itself in war, however splendid 
in its exhibition, however necessary, possibly, as certain crises in 
the present stage of civilization, is not the only courage that 
illuminates the page of history or the day-book of our common- 
place affairs. 

In one of the old Pilgrim or Puritan documents occurs the 
expression "answerable courages." They are such as answer to 
the various demands that life makes on the individual. Now, 
the whole texture of our modern civilization — mechanical, com- 



290 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

mercial, political, ecclesiastical — is such that its demands for "an- 
swerable courages" is like that of the warp for the woof in the 
texture of a piece of cloth. 

We cannot all be soldiers in the armies of our country or sail- 
ors on her men-of-war. But even for those of us who unwill- 
ingly or gladly stay at home there are opportunities, not merely 
for courageous moments, but for a courageous habit of the soul, 
— opportunities which call for the most manly courage, and put 
us to the sternest proof. 

"The tumult and the shouting dies, 

The captains and the kings depart ; 
Still stands thine ancient sacrifice. 

An humble and a contrite heart. 
Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, 

Lest we forget, lest we forget! 

"Far called, our navies melt away. 

On dune and headland -inks the fire, 
Lo, all our pomp of yesterday 

Is one with Nineveh and Tyre ! 
Lord God of hosts, be with us yet, 

Lest we forget, lest we forget!" 



OLD FLAG. 

BY HL'BBARD PARKER. 

What shall I say to you, Old Flag? 

You are so grand in every fold, 

So linked with mighty deeds of old, 
So steeped in blood where heroes fell, 
So torn and pierced by shot and shell, 

So calm, so still, so firm, so true. 

My throat swells at the sight of you. 

Old Flag. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 291 

What of the men who lifted you, Old Fbg, 

Upon the top of Bunker's Hill, 

Who crushed the Briton's cruel will, 
Mid shock and roar and crash and scream, 
Who crossed the Delaware's frozen stream, 

Who starved, who fought, who bled, who died, 

That you might float in glorious pride, 

Old Flag? 

What of the women brave and true, Old Flag, 

Who while the cannon thundered wild, 

Sent forth a husband, lover, child. 
Who labored in the field by day, 
Who all the night long knelt to pray. 

And thought that God great mercy gave, 

If only freely you might wave. 

Old Flag? 

What is your mission now, Old Flag? 

What but to set all people free, 

To rid the world of misery, 
To guard the right, avenge the wrong, 
And gather in one joyful throng. 

Beneath your fold in close embrace 

All burdened ones of every race, 

Old Flag? 

Right nobly do you lead the way, Old Flag. 

Your stars shine out for liberty, 

Your white stripes stand for purity, 
Your crimson claims that courage high, 
For Honor's sake to fight and die, 

Lead on against the alien shore ; 

We'll follow you e'en to Death's door, 

Old Flag! 



292 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

THE CYNIC. 

BY HENRY WARD BEECHER. 

The Cynic is one who never sees a good quality in a man, and 
never fails to see a bad one. He is the human owl, vigilant in 
darkness and blind to light, mousing for vermin, and never see- 
ing noble game. 

The Cynic puts all human actions into only two classes — openly 
bad, and secretly bad. All virtue, and generosity, and disinter- 
estedness, are merely the appearance of good, but selfish at the 
bottom. He holds that no man does a good thing except for 
profit. The effect of his conversation upon your feelings is to 
chill and sear them; to send you away sour and morose. 

His criticisms and innuendoes fall indiscriminately upon every 
lovely thing like frost upon the Rowers. If Mr. A., is pronounced 
a religious man, he will reply: yes, on Sundays. Mr. B. has just 
joined the church: certainly, the elections are coming on. The 
minister of the gospel is called an example of diligence: it is his 
trade. Such a man i- generous: of other men's money. This 
man is obliging: to lull suspicion and cheat you. That man is 
upright, because he is green. 

Thus hi- eye strains out every good quality, and takes in only 
the bad. To him religion is hypocrisy, honesty a preparation for 
fraud, virtue only a want of opportunity, and undeniable purity, 
asceticism. The livelong day he will coolly sit with sneering lip, 
transfixing every character that is presented. 

It is impossible to indulge in such habitual severity of opinion 
upon our fellow-men, without injuring the tenderness and deli- 
cacy of our own feelings. A man will be what his most cher- 
ished feelings are. If he encourage a noble generosity, every 
feeling will be enriched by it ; if he nurse bitter and envenomed 
thoughts, his own spirit will absorb the poison, and he will crawl 
among men as a burnished adder, whose life is mischief, and 
whose errand is death. 

He who hunts for flowers will find flowers ; and he who loves 
weeds will find weeds. 

Let it be remembered that no man, who is not himself morally 
diseased, will have a relish for disease in others. Reject, then, 
the morbid ambition of the Cynic, or cease to call yourself a man. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 293 

THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB. 

BY LORD BYRON. 

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 
And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; 
And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea 
Where the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. 

Like the leaves of the forest when summer is green, 
That host with their banners at sunset were seen; 
Like the leaves of the forest when autumn hath blown, 
That host on the morrow lay withered and strewn. 

For the angel of death spread his wings on the blast, 
And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed ; 
And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, 
And their hearts but once heaved, and forever grew still. 

And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, 
But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride; 
And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, 
And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. 

And there lay the rider distorted and pale, 
With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail ; 
And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, 
The lances uplifted, the trumpet unblown. 

And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, 
And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal ; 
And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, 
Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! 



294 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 



william Mckinley. 

BY HON. CHAUXCEY M. DEPEW. 

[From address delivered at the sixteenth annual dinner of the New York Re- 
publican Club, February 12, 1902.] 

William McKinley was the product and representative of that 
development of Americanism which has aroused intense interest 
and discussion at the commencement of the twentieth century. 
Industrial America owes more to him than any other statesman. 
Though never a business man or an employer of labor, he cre- 
ated those enterprises which have given unequalled position, 
wages, and work to his countrymen. Though never a manu- 
facturer, he gave the impulse and opportunity for manufacturers 
which have placed the surplus of the mills and factories of the 
United States in the markets of the world and given them suc- 
cess not only in the competitive countries of the East, but upon 
the soil and alongside the most highly organized industries of 
Europe. 

Though always a poor man and leaving an estate which was 
the result only of the savings from his salary as President and 
his life insurance, he made possible the gigantic fortunes which 
have been amas-ed by ma>ter minds in the control, use and dis- 
tribution of iron, coal, oil. cotton, and wool and their products. 
Though never an organizer or beneficiary of combinations or 
trusts, yet the constant aggregation of most industries in vast 
corporations of fabulous capital, while due to tendencies of the 
age and common to all countries, received tremendous accelera- 
tion from his policies. The dominant idea which governed his 
public life was that measure which brought out our national 
resources and increased our national wealth, added to the securi- 
ty, comfort, and happiness of every citizen. Some might profit 
more than others, but every one shared in greater or less degree 
in the general prosperity. Pride in his country and love for his 
people were the mainsprings of his career. 

McKinley the soldier molded McKinley the statesman. For 
four years the one object before him, at .sunrise and sunset, lead- 
ing the way in toilsome marches, its folds illuminating the tented 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 295 

field and inspiring defense and assault, was the flag. It was dearer 
to him than life, and for it he repeatedly risked his life. It stood 
for country, home, and liberty. It became sacred in his eyes, and 
he followed it with devotion amounting almost to adoration. He 
rarely, in after years, ever made a speech which did not have 
some affectionate or patriotic allusion to Old Glory. It fixed 
his career and public life. Where he could advance the best 
interests of the Republic became his aim and ambition. 

His greatest pleasure was in meeting and greeting his country- 
men and countrywomen. Whether they were friends or strangers 
that cordial grasp, that kindly smile, that honest interest in 
every one who came near him, sent both the successful and dis- 
appointed from his presence feeling that the meeting was itself a 
decoration. It was the irony of fate that the most lovable and 
the best loved man who ever attained the Presidency should die 
at the hands of an assassin. 

His faith in the public intelligence and conscience was supreme. 
He believed the people knew more than any man, no matter how 
great his talents or opportunities. He never tried to lead, but 
studied so constantly public opinion that he became almost in- 
fallible in its interpretation. Great audiences in the open were 
his intelligence offices. He would mingle with the crowd as a 
man and a brother. He could not comprehend that the world 
held a wretch so depraved or a criminal so vile as to abuse the 
simple and sacred trust which a President thus put in the people 
who had chosen him for their ruler. And yet one, defaming 
and degrading a righteous cause, aimed a frightful blow at lib- 
erty, the liberty of intercourse between citizens and their Chief 
Magistrate, when he accepted hospitality and welcome to murder 
the most eminent and best loved of the people. 

The story of government is a pathetic recital of the neglected 
opportunities of statesmen. The crisis passes which wisely turned 
would have added to the glory and greatness of the country. 
The United States has been singularly rich in men for emergen- 
cies. Though lacking the heredity, experience, and training of 
the Old World, they have been illustrious examples of wonderful 
achievement. Washington had no predecessor and left no suc- 
cessor. Hamilton provided the principles for a strong govern- 
ment with no precedents to guide him, and from them grew the 



296 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

Constitution and Union which John Marshall perfected by his 
matchless decisions. Webster made popular by his majestic elo- 
quence, and Lincoln saved by rare native gifts and unequaled 
genius for guiding a nation through the perils of civil war and 
the destructive forces of evolution. 

The Presidency did not change or elevate the tribune. The 
dignity of the office was never better sustained, but its majesty 
was concealed. Familiar speech and caressing touch were there 
for all, and with them an indefinable reserve of power and of the 
respect due the office which kept the dullest and most audacious 
within rigid limits of propriety and decorum. The vast majority 
are lonesome in crowds ; he could not bear to be alone. His 
pleasure in the long journeys across the continent was when the 
train stopped and the whole population surged around him. 

When the local committee, proud of the palaces of their wealth. 
their public buildings, art galleries and libraries, tried to show 
them, he cared nut. and demanded to be taken to the wharves 
where the fleets of commerce were loading and unloading the 
interchanges of the country and the world, to the mills, the fac- 
tories, the furnaces, and the mines. He did not like the pomp 
of glittering parades, but the farmer afield with plow or scythe 
or sower or mower or reaper, or a procession of artisans hurry- 
ing to or contentedly leaving their work, carried him to joyous 
heights of enthusiasm and happiness. 

Americanism with him meant the victories of peace. To see 
the United States controlling its own markets and successfully 
competing with other nations in the markets of the world was 
his idea of the true glory of his country. That Americans had 
won in the bids for a bridge over the Nile, or rails for Russian 
roads, or cars for Australia, or had introduced successfully agri- 
cultural machines and electrical appliances on the Continent of 
Europe, and textile fabrics in Great Britain, gave him more pride 
and pleasure than any possible triumph on land or sea. He would 
exhaust every resource of diplomacy and adopt every measure 
of conciliation and arbitration before going to war. 

William McKinley entered upon the Presidency at a period of 
greater distress in every branch of industry and employment than 
had ever before been experienced. He died when prosperity had 
assumed proportions -in productions, in domestic trade and foreign 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 297 

commerce, in the accumulation of national and individual wealth, 
and in the happy condition of wage-earners, beyond the dreams 
of the most enthusiastic optimist in the development of our coun- 
try. He assumed the administration of the government when it 
was not reckoned diplomatically or industrially by the cabinets 
of the Old World and left it to his successor when for the same 
cabinets the leading discussion is how to avert what they are 
pleased to call "the American peril." Happily for him, before the 
dread summons came, the realization of his life work, his aspira- 
tions and his hopes were complete. The assassin struck him 
down at the moment when the splendors of the fruition of his 
labors were crystallized by his death into a halo of immortality. 



IF MOTHER WOULD LISTEN. 

BY MARGARET E. SANGSTER. 

If mother would listen to me, dears, 

She would freshen that faded gown, 
She would sometimes take an hour's rest, 

And sometimes a trip to town. 
And it wouldn't be all for the children, 

The fun and the cheer and the play ; 
With the patient droop on the tired mouth, 

And the "Mother has had her day." 

True, mother has had her day, dears, 

When ypu were her babies three, 
And she stepped about the farm and the house. 

As busy as a bee; 
When she rocked you all to sleep, dears, 

And sent you all to school, 
And wore herself out, and did without, 

And lived by the Golden Rule. 

And so your turn has come, dears, 

Her hair is growing white; 
And her eyes are gaining that far-away look 

That peers beyond the night. 



298 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

One of these days in the morning, 

Mother will not be here; 
She will fade away mto silence — 

The mother so true and dear. 

Then what will you do in the daylight 

And what in the gloaming dim ? 
And father, tired and lonesome then, 

Pray, what will you do for him? 
If you want to keep your mother, 

You must make her rest to-day; 
Must give her a share in the frolic, 

And draw her int.. the play. 

And if mother would listen to me, dears, 

Slu'd buy her a gown of silk. 
With buttons i >f ri tyal velvet 

And ruffles a- white as milk ; 
And she'd let you d<> the trotting, 

While she sat -till in her chair. 
That mother should have it hard all through, 

It strikes me isn't fair. 



THE ISSUES OF THE TRAXSVAAI^ QUESTION. 

BY ENID WIDDRINGTON. 

[Extract from address given before the Society for Ethical Culture of Philadel- 
phia, November 12, 1899.] 

In the middle of the seventeenth century the Dutch East India 
Company founded the place where Cape Town now stands. The 
settlers were afterwards joined by some Huguenot emigrants 
from France and formed a community, partly agricultural, but 
far more largely pastoral, under the administration of the Dutch 
Company. In 1795. when Holland, overrun by the French arm- 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 299 

ies, had become a republic, the British, being at war with France 
and her allies, seized Cape Colony and held it till the peace of 
Amiens. But its strategic importance having been recognized, it 
was again seized and remained in the hands of the British on 
the conclusion of peace in 1814, the Dutch receiving £6,000,000. 

In this transaction, however, the settlers had no share, and 
from the very first were hostile to the new government which 
had been foisted upon them against their will. Its unpopularity 
was intensified by the vigor with which a slight Dutch rising 
was put down in 181 5, when five Boer farmers were hanged. 
The anger caused by this harshness deepened as the years went 
by, until, unable to tolerate any longer British rule, and yet not 
strong enough for rebellion, there was only one course open to 
them — a hard and difficult one. This was to "trek" out into the 
vast wilderness and found a new republic in the unknown lands 
north and northeast of the colony, and thus shake off once and 
for all the hated British rule. Within two years' time six to ten 
thousand people — men, women, and children — taking with them 
their cattle and what they could carry of their household goods in 
their large covered wagons, leaving behind them their lands and 
farms, wandered out — a modern Israel from the British land of 
Egypt in search of a new Canaan. The simile is the more exact 
because the Boers, who were deeply though narrowly religious, 
believed themselves to be under the special guidance of Divine 
Providence — God's chosen people. And in this spirit they faced 
the dangers of the way, pestilence among the cattle, assaults of ■ 
bodies of British soldiers, violent attacks on the part of their 
fierce wild tribes surrounding them ("the Amalekites,"' as the 
Boers termed them), privations innumerable, starvation, disease, 
"battle, murder and sudden death," — all were faced by the emi- 
grants in the hope of reaching some part of Africa where they 
might live in their rough, primitive way, undisturbed by foreign 
rule. 

One band settled in what is now the Orange Free State, 
another colonized Natal. Hardly, however, had they settled in the 
country when the British government claimed them as subjects 
and Natal as a British colony, and en their refusing to submit 
sent a force to Natal and subdued it. A few Boers remained, 
but the greater number were again forced to trek northwards 



300 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

across the Vaal river, where they fondly believed British aggres- 
sion would not follow them. 

In 1882 the British government formally recognized the in- 
dependence of the Transvaal Boers. From this period they strug- 
gled along, until the discovery, in 1885-86, of immense blanket 
beds of gold changed the whole face of affairs. Into the Trans- 
vaal soon flocked in ever-increasing numbers men of every na- 
tion under the sun. They were all gold-seekers. The Boers 
considered them interlopers ; they thought the Boers were cum- 
berers of the ground. The Boers wanted the country to live in; 
they wanted it for their children and their children's children. 
The newcomers wanted simply the gold in it, with which they 
might enrich themselves and depart to spend it elsewhere. 

How did the Boers deal with the situation? "If," argued the 
more old-fashioned and conservative Boers, "we can not keep 
the people out, we must make them as innocuous as possible. It 
is clear that if we do not make our naturalization laws more 
strict, we shall soon be completely out-voted and overwhelmed 
by these intruders.*' Accordingly, the period during which an 
immigrant could acquire the franchise was raised from five to 
fifteen years. And so, although most of the taxation was paid 
by the newcomers — naturally enough, as they were the richest — 
yet they had practically little, if any, share in the representation. 

And so it has come to pass that South Africa is plunged into 
war. A war that is to be deplored, for it is needless; to be 
-hated, for it is unjust. There can be but one ultimate end to 
the war — British victory. And when peace is made, let us hope 
that the terms will be such as to minimize the harm wrought by 
these disastrous battles, and to restore — though that will be the 
work of many weary years — some measure of good feeling and 
mutual trust in South Africa. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 301 

I'M WITH YOU ONCE AGAIN. 

BY GEORGE P. MORRIS. 

I'm with you once again, my friends, 

No more my footsteps roam; 
Where it began my journey ends, 

Amid the scenes of home. 
No other clime has skies so blue, 

Or streams so broad and clear, 
And where are hearts so warm and true 

As those that meet me here? 

Since last, with spirits wild and free, 

I pressed my native strand, 
I've wandered many miles at sea, 

And many miles on land : 
I've seen fair regions of the earth 

With rude commotion torn, 
Which taught me how to prize the worth 

Of that where I was born. 

In other countries when I heard 

The language of my own, 
How fondly each familiar word 

Awoke an answering tone ! 
But when our woodland songs were sung 

Upon a foreign mart, 
The vows that faltered on the tongue 

With rapture thrilled my heart ! 

My native land ! I turn to you, 

With blessing and with prayer, 
Where man is brave and woman true, 

And free as mountain air. 
Long may our flag in triumph wave, 

Against the world combined, 
And friends a welcome — foes a grave, 

Within our borders find. 



302 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS, 



MINCE PIES. 

"My dear," said Mr. Leffenwell, folding his napkin and push- 
ing his chair from the table, "My dear, you're a pretty good 
housekeeper, and once in a while you contrive to cook up a 
pretty fair meal, but you've no business fooling around a mince 
pie. In fact, there never was but one woman in the world who 
could make a mince pic, and that was my mother." 

"Why, I thought this was a nice one. I got it out of the 
cook-book." 

"And ymi had better put it right back where you got it, as a 
warning to other amateurs. Oh, not that this is especially bad, 
only it doesn't meet all the requirements of a pie, as they were 
instilled into my youthful mind. Oh, you might pass this off 
on foundling hospitals that never had any mother, but it hasn't 
the soul that I used to get out of pie when I lived at home." 

"How did your mother make her pies, dear? If I knew what 
she used, perhaps I could get up one of which you would eat 
six slices instead of four." and, with this purely feminine dig, 
Mrs. Leffenwell looked modestly downward and continued fold- 
ing knife pleatings in the tablecloth. 

"Come," exclaimed Mr. Leffenwell, impetuously jumping up 
from his chair, "if you have the ingredients, I'll show you how to 
make a pie that will draw howls of envy from the neighbors," 
and he led the way to the kitchen. 

"Where's the chopping tray and the apples. Give me the 
hand guillotine and the beef ! Look alive now, my dear, and 
soon we shall startle the world on the abstruse subject of pie! 
Now," he continued, as he dumped the meat and apples into the 
tray and went at them vigorously with the chopping-knife, "now 
you watch the proceedings, and note how the pie begins to assume 
proportions." 

"Why, didn't your mother peel the apples and take the cores 
out before she chopped them?" 

"Eh?" Then after a long pause: "No. of course not. If you 
did. there's where you made your mistake. I suppose you 
peeled the beef, too ; though it strikes me that this meat would 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 303 

chop a little finer if a pile-driver had dropped on it once or 
twice. Anyway, you don't want your meat too fine, so I guess 
this will do," and Mr. Leffenwell pushed the trayful of lumps 
to one side and then rolled up his sleeves. 

"What will you have now, dear?" 

"Some flour and water; it's the crust of a pie that's its genius, 
and I mean to turn out a slab of pastry that'll be a monument 
to the artist who is doing the job. Give me some flour and 
water, while I feel as one upon whom the spirit of a successful 
pie rests visibly." 

Mrs. Leffenwell brought the desired materials, and once more 
resumed the relation of pupil to the exercises. 

"Anything else, dear?" she asked, as Mr. Leffenwell wet down 
the flour, and plunged his fists into the paste. 

"Nothing but profound silence. The chief trouble with the 
crust of your pie is that you allow your attention to be dis- 
tracted at the critical moment. I, on the contrary, will stop 
boxing this overcoat for that mince meat, the second it reaches 
flakiness," and Mr. Leffenwell poured in more flour and plunged 
again into his ambitious effort in the way of crust. 

"There," he exclaimed, when he had fought it to the con- 
sistency of sand and mucilage. "Hand me the rolling-pin," and 
he rolled it out in two thick chunks. "This is -the triumph of 
pie over puttering. Now lead out the pan that the gods would 
honor, and let's see how this combination of hereditary brains 
and acquired intelligence will go when it's cooked." 

Mrs. Leffenwell brought the pan, into which he dropped the 
lower crust, and then poured in his mince meat. 

"You'll have to lift your teeth pretty high to get around some 
of those lumps, but it's the crust of a pie that talks, when you 
come to conversation on pie. Now you do this : You roll out 
the top crust — so ; then you describe an ornamental spray on it 
with your thumb nail — so. Then you put the upper crust on 
the lower one — so ; and when you get it on thus, you pinch the 
edges together all around — so. My mother used to have a wheel 
out of an old wooden clock, and she printed landscapes in holes 
all over the top. But that's not necessary; it adds luster, but 
no dignity, to the performance. Now you put it in the oven — 



304 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

so, and soon we shall have accomplished results in the imme- 
diate line of pie." 

"It is really remarkable, dear, how well you remember how 
your mother made her pies." 

"You won't mind if it is better than yours, will you? You 
won't cry," and Mr. Leffenwell chucked his wife under the chin 
and then opened the stove door to see how affairs were 'pro- 
gressing. 

"Let me see : You try it with a broom-splint, don't you, to 
see whether it is done or not? Where's your broom? Show 
me the happy broom that is to be immortalized by testing this 
grand apotheosis of pie." 

Mrs. Leffenwell produced a broom, from which he selected a 
splint, which he endeavored to thrust into the pie. 

"It won't go in. The trouble is with the broom. Haven't you 
a broom that knows something about its business?" and Mr. 
Leffenwell broke up several more splints in a vain endeavor to 
penetrate the pie. 

"Hadn't you better try the handle, dear?" 

"No. I hadn't better try the handle. Where's a towel? Now, 
come out of here and let us sec what is the occasion of this un- 
called-for resistance. You have an idea that you are going to 
be assassinated with a broom-splint; haven't you? You think 
you are sort of a bulwark of American liberties and bound to 
resist foreign intervention; don't you? Well, you're not. You're 
nothing but a pie, and you're going to have something stuck 
into you if it takes a cannon and a cold chisel to do it!" and 
Mr. Leffenwell stabbed the pie first with a fork and then with 
the chopping knife, without making the faintest impression. 

"You're up in pies ; what do you suppose is the matter with 
this one?" he inquired of Mrs. Leffenwell. 

"If I had been your mother, I should have put some lard into 
the crust." 

"You would, would you? Well, I'd like to knojv^ how you are 
going to put lard into a crust that you cannot penetrate with a 
bayonet! Anyway, the inside of that pie is all right, if I could 
only get the cover off. Haven't you anything here that I could 
put under the edge, and then with it lift off the roof of the 
whole business? Give me that can-opener! There she comes!" 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 305 

and the crust gave way, revealing lumps of meat and apple par- 
ings, half cooked and still steaming. 

"I suppose that your mother put the cider and spices into her 
pies after your father had wrenched them open?" 

"You do, do you? Perhaps you don't like the looks of the 
pie. I suppose you have some fashionable idea about not wish- 
ing to associate with that pie. Well, you needn't. I never force 
unpleasant acquaintances on my wife. Go forth, pie !" and he 
pitched it through a window, then slamming the door behind 
him, he mounted the stairs with a heavy tread. 

"Well, if that's the way his mother made her pies," said Mrs. 
Leffenwell as she swept up the debris, "I don't wonder that it 
made an impression on his mind." 



f OU NEVER CAN TELL. 
By Ella Wheeler Wilcox. 

You never can tell when you send a word, 

Like an arrow shot from a bow 
By an archer blind — be it cruel or kind, 

Just where it will chance to go. 
It may pierce the heart of your dearest friend 

Tipped with its poison and balm ; 
To a stranger's heart in life's great mart 

It may carry its pain or its calm. 

You never can tell when you do an act 

Just what the result will be, 
But with every deed you are sowing a seed, 

Though its harvest you may not see. 
Each kindly act is an acorn dropped 

In God's productive soil ; 
Though you may not know, yet the tree shall grow 

And shelter the brows that toil. 



306 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

You never can tell what your thoughts will do 

In bringing you hate or love ; 
For thoughts are things, and their airy wings 

Are swifter than carrier doves; 
They follow the law of the universe, 

Each thing will create its- kind ; 
And they speed o'er the track to bring you back 

Whatever went out from your mind ! 



ROME AND CARTHAGE. 



V,\ VICTOR HUGO. 



Rome and Carthage! behold them drawing near for the strug- 
gle that is to shake the world! Carthage, the metropolis of 
Africa, is the mistress of oceans, of kingdoms, and of nations; 
a magnificent city, burdened with opulence, radiant with the 
strange arts and trophies <>i" the East. She is at the acme of 
her civilization; she can mount no higher; any change now 
must be a decline. Rome is comparatively poor. She has seized 
all within her grasp, but rather from the lust of conquest than 
to till her own coffers. She is clemi-barbarous, and has her 
education and her fortune both to get. All is before her, nothing 
behind. 

For a time these two nations exist in view of each other. The 
one reposes in the noontide of her splendor; the other waxes 
strong in the shade. But, little by little, air and space are 
wanting to each, for her development. Rome begins to perplex 
Carthage, and Carthage is an eyesore to Rome. Seated on op- 
posite banks of the Mediterranean, the two cities look each other 
in the face. The sea no longer keeps them apart ! Europe and 
Africa weigh upon each other. Like two clouds surcharged with 
electricity, they impend; with their contact must come the 
thunder shock. The catastrophe of this splendid drama is at 
hand. What actors are met ! Two races, that of merchants and 
mariners, that of laborers and soldiers; two nations, the one 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 307 

dominant by gold, the other by steel; two republics, the one 
theocratic, the other aristocratic ; — Rome and Carthage ! Rome 
with her army, Carthage with her fleet ; Carthage, old, rich, and 
crafty ; Rome, young, poor, robust ; the past, and the future ; 
the spirit of discovery, and the spirit of conquest; the genius 
of commerce, and the demon of war ; the East and South on 
one side, the West and North on the other ; in short, two worlds, 
— the civilization of Africa, and the civilization of Europe. 

They measure each other from head to foot. They gather all 
their forces. Gradually the war kindles. The world takes fire. 
These colossal powers are locked in deadly strife. Carthage has 
crossed the Alps; Rome, the seas. The two nations, personified 
in two men, Hannibal and Scipio, close with each other, wrestle, 
and grow infuriate. The duel is desperate. It is a struggle for 
life. Rome wavers; she utters that cry of anguish, "Hannibal 
at the gates !" But she rallies, collects all her strength for one 
last, appalling effort, throws herself upon Carthage, and sweeps 
her from the face of the earth. 



HUNTING SONG. 

BY SIR WALTER SCOTT. 

Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 

On the mountain dawns the day, 

All the jolly chase is here. 

With hawk, and horse, and hunting-spear! 

Hounds are in their couples yelling. 

Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling, 

Merrily, merrily, mingle they, 

"Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Waken, lords and ladies gay! 
This mist has left the mountain gray, 
Springlets in the dawn are steaming, 
Diamonds on the brake are gleaming, 



308 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

And foresters have busy been, 
To track the buck in thicket green; 
Now we come to chant our lay 
"Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 

To the greenwood haste away ! 

We can show you where he lies, 

Fleet of foot and tall of size ; 

We can show the marks he made, 

When 'gainst the oak his antler's frayed; 

You shall see him brought to bay, 

"Waken, lords and ladies gay." 

Louder, louder chant the lay! 

Waken, lords and ladies gay ! 

Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee, 

Run a curse as well as we; 

Time, -tern hunt-man! who can baulk, 

Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk. 

Think of this and rise with day, 

Gentle lords and ladies gay. 



SPEECH OF BLACK HAWK. 

You have taken me prisoner with all my warriors. I am 
much grieved, for I expected, if I did not defeat you, to hold 
out much longer, and give you more trouble before I surren- 
dered. I tried hard to bring you into ambush, but your last 
general 1 understands Indian fighting. I determined to rush on 
you, and fight you face to face ; I fought hard. But your guns 
were well aimed. The bullets flew like birds in the air, and 
whizzed by our ears like the wind through the trees in winter. 

My warriors fell around me; it began to look dismal. I saw 
my evil day at hand. The sun rose dim on us in the morning, 

1 General Atkinson. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 309 

and at night it sank in a dark cloud, and looked like a ball of 
fire. That was the last sun that shone on Black Hawk. His 
heart is dead, and no longer beats quick in his bosom. He is 
now a prisoner to the white men ; they will do with him as 
they wish. But he can stand torture, and is not afraid of death. 
He is no coward. Black Hawk is an Indian. 

He has done nothing for which an Indian ought to be 
ashamed. He has fought for his countrymen, against white men 
who came, year after year, to cheat them, and take away their 
lands. You know the cause of our making war. It is known 
to all white men. They ought to be ashamed of it. The white 
men despise the Indians, and drive them from their homes. But 
the Indians are not deceitful. The white men speak bad of the 
Indian, and look at him spitefully. But the Indian does not tell 
lies ; Indians do not steal. 

An Indian who is as bad as the white men, could not live in 
our nation; he would be put to death, and be eaten up by 
wolves. The white men are bad schoolmasters ; they carry false 
looks, and deal in false actions ; they smile in the face of the 
poor Indian to cheat him ; they shake him by the hand to gain 
his confidence, to make him drunk, and to deceive him. We 
told them to let us alone, and keep away from us, but they 
followed on, and beset our paths, and they coiled themselves 
among us, like the snake. They poisoned us by their touch. 

We were not safe. We lived in danger. We were becoming 
like them, hypocrites and liars, — all talkers and no workers. 
We looked up to the Great Spirit. We went to our father 1 
We were encouraged. His great council gave us fair words and 
big promises, but we obtained no satisfaction, — things were grow- 
ing worse. There were no deer in the forest. The opossum 
and beaver were fled ; the springs were drying up, and our peo- 
ple were without victuals to keep them from starving. 

We called a great council, and made a large fire. The spirit 
of our fathers arose and spoke to us to avenge our wrongs or 
die. We all spoke before the council-fire. It was warm and 
pleasant. We set up the war-whoop, and dug up the tomahawk; 
our knives were ready, and the heart of Black Hawk swelled 

1 " Father " here refers to the President of the United States ; and " his 
council " to the Congress. 



310 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

high in his bosom, when he led his warriors to battle. He is 
satisfied. He will go to the world of spirits contented. He has 
done his duty. His father will meet him there, and commend 
him. 

Black Hawk is a true Indian, and disdains to cry like a wo- 
man. He feels for his wife, his children, and his friends. But 
he does not care for himself. He cares for the nation and the 
Indians. They will suffer. He laments their fate. The white 
men do not scalp the heads; but they do worse, — they poison 
the heart; it is not pure with them. I lis countrymen will not be 
scalped, but they will, in a few years, become like the white men, 
so that you can not trust them; and there must be, as in the 
white settlements, nearly as many officers as men, to take care 
of them, and keep them in order. 

Farewell, my nation! Black Hawk tried to save you, and 
avenge your wrongs. He drank the blood of some of the whites. 
He has been taken prisoner, and his plans are stopped. He can 
do no more! He is near his end. His sun is setting, and he 
will rise no more. Farewell to Black Hawk! 



THE FUGITIVES. 



BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. 



The waters are flashing, 
The white hail is dashing, 
The lightnings are glancing, 
The hoar spray is dancing :- 
Away ! 

The whirlwind is rolling, 
The thunder is tolling, 
The forest is swinging, 
The minster-bells ringing: — 
Come away ! 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 311 

The earth is like ocean, 
Wreck-strewn and in motion; 
Bird, beast, man, and worm, 
Have crept out of the storm: — 
Come away ! 



"Our boat has one sail, 
And the helmsman is pale. 
A bold pilot, I trow, 
Who should follow us now !" 
Shouted he. 



And she cried: "Ply the oar; 
Put off gaily from shore !" — 
As she spoke, bolts of death, 
Mixed with hail, specked their path 
O'er the sea : 



And from isle, tower, and rock, 
The blue beacon-cloud broke : 
And, though dumb in the blast, 
The red cannon flashed fast 
From the lee. 



And "Fear'st thou?" and "Fear'st thou?" 
And "Seest thou?" and "Hear'st thou?" 
And "Drive we not free 
O'er the terrible sea, 
I and thou?" 



312 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

One boat-cloak did cover 
The loved and the lover: 
Their blood beats one measure, 
They murmur proud pleasure 
Soft and low ; — 



While around the lashed ocean, 
Like mountains in motion, 
Is withdrawn and uplifted, 
Sunk, shattered and shifted 
To and fro. 



In the court of the fortress 
Beside the pale portress, 
Like a bloodhound well beaten 
The bridegroom stands, eaten 
By shame. 



On the topmost watch-turret, 
As a death-boding spirit, 
Stands the grey tyrant father; 
To his voice, the mad weather 
Seems tame; 



And, with curses as wild 
As e'er clung to child, 
He devotes to the blast 
The best, loveliest, and last, 
Of his name. 



MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 313 

AMERICANISM. 

BY THEODORE ROOSEVELT. 

There are two or three things that Americanism. means. In 
the first place it means that we shall give to our fellow- 
man, to our fellow-citizen, the same wide latitude as to his indi- 
vidual beliefs that we demand for ourselves ; that, so long as a 
man does his work as a man should, we shall not inquire, we 
shall not hold for or against him in civic life, his method of 
paying homage to his Maker. That is an important lesson for 
all of us to learn everywhere, but it is doubly important in our 
great cities, where we have a cosmopolitan population of such 
various origin, belonging to such different creeds, and where the 
problem of getting good government depends in its essence upon 
decent men standing together and insisting that before we take 
into account the ordinary political questions we shall, as a pre- 
requisite, Lave decency and honesty in any party. 

Now for another side of Americanism, the side of the work, 
the strife, of the active performance of duty, one side of Ameri- 
canism, one side of democracy. Our democracy means that we 
have no privileged class, no class that is exempt from the duties 
or deprived of the privileges that are implied in the words 
"American Citizenship." Now that principle has two sides to it, 
itself, for all of us would be likely to dwell continually upon 
one side, that all have equal rights. It is more important that 
we should dwell on the other side ; that is, that we shall have 
our duties and that the rights cannot be kept unless the duties 
are performed. 

The law of American life — of course, it is the law of life 
everywhere — the law of American life, peculiarly, must be the 
law of work; not the law of idleness; not the law of self- 
indulgence or pleasure, merely the law of work. It is a dis- 
grace for any American not to do his duty ; but it is a double, 
a triple disgrace for a man of means or a man of education not 
to do his duty. The only work worth doing is done by those men, 
those women, who learn not to shrink from difficulties, but to 
face them and overcome them. So that Americanism means 



314 MISCELLANEOUS SELECTIONS. 

work, means effort, means the constant and unending strife with 
our conditions which is not only the law of nature if the race is 
to progress, but which is really the law of the highest happiness 
for us ourselves. 

You have got to have the same interest in public affairs as in 
private affairs, or you cannot keep this country, what this coun- 
try should be. You have got to have more than that — you have 
got to have courage. I do not care how good a man is, if he is 
timid, his value is limited. The timid will not amount to very 
much in the world. I want to see a good man ready to smite 
with the sword. I want to see him able to hold his own in 
active life against the forces of evil. I want to see him war 
effectively for righteousness. 

Of all the things we do not want to see is the tendency to 
divide into two camps; on the one side all the nice, pleasant, 
refined people of high instincts, but no capacity to do work, and, 
on the other hand, men who have not got nice instincts at all, 
but who are not afraid. When you get that condition, you are 
preparing immeasurable disaster for the nation. You have got 
to combine decency and honesty with courage. But even that is 
not enough, for I do not care how brave, how honest a man is, 
if he is a natural-born fool he cannot be a success. He has 
got to have the saving grace of common-sense. He has got to 
have the right kind of heart, he has got to be upright and de- 
cent, he has got to be brave, and he has got to have common- 
sense. He has got to have intelligence, and if he has those, then 
he has in him the making of a first-class American citizen. 




INDEX. 



PAGE. 

Actions (see Gestures), 78 

Analysis for Emphasis, Rules for, 57, 62 

Arms, The, 163 

Articulation, 46, 90, 96, 121 

Articulation, Difficult Combinations 147 

Attitude (see also Position), 78 

Attitude, The Speaker's, 11 

Attitude of Respect, 30 

Attitude, Laws of, 86, 164 

Attitude, Illustrations of, 86 

Attitudes and Bearings, Final Hints on, 162 

Ball of Foot, For Getting Weight of Body on, 31 

Bearings (see also Attitude), " 79 

Body, The, 164 

Body, The Language of the, 73 

Bowing, 110 

Breast-bone, 41 

Breathing-Exercises, 21, 22, 69 

Chest, The, 14, 75, 76, 163 

Chest and Shoulders, 76 

Climax, 104 

Consonants, The, 91 

Description, 155 

Elbow, The, 163 

Emphasis, 24, 57, 62 

Eye, The, 108 

Eye, Direct, 108 

Eye, Indirect, 109 

Facial Expression, a , 150 

Feet, The 13, 162 



316 INDEX. 

Flexibility : page. 

Ex. I. Hands and Fingers, 49 

Ex. II. Wrists, 50 

Ex. III. For Muscles of the Neck and Jaw, 53 

Ex. IV. For Legs, 54 

Ex. V. ForArmr 67 

Ex. VI. ForArmr-. 67 

Forehead, The, 150 

Free Side 13 

Free Foot, 13 

Gestures 78 

Gestures, Full arm: 

Ex. I. Indication (Palm up) 133 

Ex. II. Indication (Palm down), 134 

Ex. III. Indication of Self-folding movement, 135 

Ex. IV. Suspense " . . 136 

Ex. V. Returning to Rest, 137 

Hand, The, 163 

Hand, Actions of the : 

Ex. I. Simple Indication 117 

Ex. II. Beckoning, 119 

Ex. III. Admiration 119 

Ex. IV. Repulsion, 119 

Ex. V. Appeal, 124 

Ex. VI. Rejection, 124 

Ex. VI [. Declaration, 124 

Ex. VIII. Declaration with Surrender, 125 

Ex. IX. Concealment, 125 

Head, The, 12, 92 

Ex. I. Erect, 93 

Ex. II. Bowed 93 

Ex. III. Lifted, 94 

Ex. IV. Pivoted, 94 

Ex. V. Inclined, 100 

Ex. VI. Advanced, 101 

Ex. VII. Drawn Back, 101 

Ex. Vm. Hung, 101 

Ex. IX. Thrown Back, 101 

Hips, The, 13, 14, 75, 77, 162 



INDEX. 



317 



PAGE. 

Hip, Swaying the, 37 

Imitation, 155 

Inflection, 32, 79 

Inflection, Minor, 51 

Inflection, Major, 51 

Inflection, Circumflex, 79 

Inflection, Double Circumflex, 81 

Jaw, The Lower, 152 

Knees, The, 14, 162 

Language of the Body, The, 73 

Larynx, The, 42 

Legs, For Flexibility of the, 54 

For Independence of the, 60 

Weight on One Foot, 85 

Weight on Both Feet, 87 

Lips, The, 151 

Lungs, The, 40 

Mouth, The, 151 

Movement, 128 

Nose, The, 151 

Oppositions of the Head and Arms, 138 

Ex. I. Indication with, 139 

Ex. II. Rejection or Denial, . . . " 140 

Ex. III. Rejection of Trifles, 141 

Ex. IV. Animation 142 

Ex. V. Assertion, 143 

Ex. VI. Repulsion, 144 

Pantomimic Expression, 73 

Phrasing, 16 

Pitch, Movement and Volume, 128 

Poise, Transition of, 52 

Position (see also Attitude), 11, 14, 30, 37, 78 

Speaker's, The, 11, 14 

Exercises in, Ex. I., 12 

Exercises in, Ex. II, 15 

Exercises in, Ex. Ill, 30 

Exercises in, Ex. IV., 81 



318 INDEX. 

PAGE. 

Exercises in, Ex. V., 37 

Exercises in, Ex. VI., 38 

Exercises in, Ex. VII. , 52 

Reading, 16 

Rhythm, 112 

Shoulders, The, 13, 14, 75, 76 

Sitting, 15, 87 

Standing Front View, 12 

Standing Side View, 14 

Strong Foot, 13 

Strong Side, 13 

Torso, The, 75, 76 

Vocal Apparatus, The, 40 

Vocal Bands, The, 42 

Vocal Exercises 44 

Ex. I. " Start " of the Tone, 44 

"Start "of the Tone, 45 

"Start" of the Tone, 45 

For Speaking without Waste of Breath, ... 97 

For Forward Placing of the Voice 122 

Volume, 128 

Vowels, The, 46, 55, 62, 68, 70, 81, 90 

Windpipe, The, 41 



Ex. 


II. 


Ex. 


III. 


Ex. 


IV. 


Ex. 


V. 



MAR 26 1903 



